A flip of a coin is where my luck runs thin,
Heads or tails- only one side may win.
Behind this concealing mask they see,
I am nothing of what they expect me to be.
I am constructed of empty expectations,
They pull me apart in opposite directions.
My heart is full of insecurity,
I am trained to think of myself with parasitic peculiarity.
My fear stems from the burning stare of a crowd,
In which no love is offered and no love is found.
My heart longs to be accepted,
But even my own loathing is not respected.
The crowd tells me how to smile,
How to fix my hair,
How I should smell and what I should wear.
Half-heartedly I follow their direction,
But still they offer me no discretion.
I am only in search of a sliver of love,
But I don’t even worship the one they tell me so surely rules above.
Some things, I just cannot change.
And for that, they’ll only find me strange.
When I walk down the dimly lit street,
I pull my mask up further and hurry my feet.
Though not all seem to truly care,
I still cannot manage to escape their stare.
We follow their printed plan with oblivious ease,
Go to work, pay the bills- Yet it will never be enough to please.
Somewhere, someone offers a handshake,
Though it offers no warmth in its wake.
I think now that I will always feel small- no matter how short and no matter how tall.
I am too boring, I am too gross.
I am too rich, I am too broke.
I am too foolish, I am too sad.
I am too tired, and I am too mad.
So I walk along and flip the coin another time,
Again, it is my face I choose to hide.
