I'm just a misfit.
I just don't fit in.
I'm just a outcast.
I'm just missing my past.

I'll be at the ball in my tutu and fishnets
While I idolize the girls with the long hair and dresses
The money thrown at them by loving parents
While my outfit is made up of spare change and short tresses
But I'll wear my mohawk high because even though
I look out of place and not as royal as you
I am me and true to my name
While you are just the same ******* dolled up

"I've always felt like a yellow skittle in a sea of red skittles."

"what a coincidence. yellow skittles happen to be my favorite flavor of skittles."

"ok."*

*"ok."

I think the worst feeling in the world is being misunderstood.
You think, believe and dream in a certain way but because people assume they know you better than they do, they instinctively think the latter of you.
My behaviour is who I am. I am myself. I am erratic, indecisive and irresponsible. Yes, I admit that.
But I also have the ability to love harder than anyone I have ever known when given the chance. The only thing that holds me back is fear. I can't invest everything I have in one person because there is always that chance they will leave me, and then I will be left more than empty  - I will be broken. I will have nothing left inside of me to love anyone else that isn't you.
I wish you knew how I really felt.
So yes I am misunderstood, and I am sick of it.

She never knew being different could make you feel so alone
But she didn’t think she could help it even if she had known
They all say, “Be yourself, because there is no one better!”
But they knock her down every time she’s different from the others

Wherever she is, there’ll always be someone
Even when she became older, they’re never quite gone
Their words seem to get to her, eating on her bones
Refusing to give her back the pride that she once used to own

And her friends, they seemed like friends
But all the while it was just pretend
They left her because she was too much of a misfit
They’d rather be with someone from whom they can benefit

Now she miserably sits alone in her room by herself
How funny it is that they all say, “Be yourself!”
When she was herself, the world screamed at her
So what is the point anyway? It didn’t seem to matter

She left a goodbye note the night that she went
The next morning they found her, face down on the cement
Almost right after, they began their hypocritical lies
Saying how much they had loved her, “Oh such a shame she died!”

But don’t forget, reader, that they had been the reason
A beautiful girl had to go, throw away the life she’d been given
All because she couldn’t bear to spend another day
Living in this terrible world, and so she went away

Don’t call her selfish for not bearing it out
She’s been living too long in this merciless drought
She’s probably better off now, anywhere but here
Rest in peace my darling; you have nothing more to fear

It took them enormous courage
To wake up every morning and put their uniform on,
To practice their best smile in front of the mirror,
To go a whole day feeling like an absolute misfit.
The fear of being judged had sealed their innocent lips,
Their ability to converse was almost nonexistent.
Their opinion? It had disappeared into thin air.
The sorrow in their beautiful eyes narrated stories never to be uttered,
Their souls were painted in colors of normalcy – just like you and me.
It’s not that they didn't try to be ‘one of them’
But that, they were terribly misunderstood.
Here’s to those ‘misfits’, to those ‘outcasts’ –
Without you all, there would be dogs that wouldn't be loved in this chaotic world.
Without you all, the libraries in schools would be inanimate – you give it life with every page you turn.
Without you all, there would be music unheard of.
Without you all, there would be a world filled to its rim with pretence.
If you ask me,
Life is not about the long run,
It’s about taking each moment as it comes.
To me, you've made it through many such moments – YOU did it.
You might be wounded and scarred,
But remember no battle was won without battle scars.
You are unparalleled,
But sometimes you seem to forget – just take a look inside and you will see the magic you can create.

We are old souls
Trapped in young bodies.
And I wonder,
When can we ever be
free?

There is a child walking on the street,
by her own, begging for something to eat.
Hundreds are passing by daily,
none paying attention to her, all ignoring little Bailey.

After a long day of begging and pleading,
she lays down in her cardboard mansion, which is not even near pleasing.
Hours go by as she thinks about her life,
no family, no friends, not even some place she could rent.

What does it mean To be loved?
No parents, no siblings; is there really someone above?
She wonders why she had been the one left alone,
seven years, with no one to hold.

Love..does it exist?
Maybe in a husband, a pet, or a kid.
''But who would accept me like this?''
No foster family, no orphanage; I'm just a Misfit.