I find myself trying to speak
The words I myself find to be meek
Your presence brings a sense of happiness
To a world full of ugliness
Your life shines with fulfillment
In a world with so little enjoyment
These words I try to find
Are formed in my mind
But are never spoken
For their formation hold naught but a token
A token of appreciation
For your reconciliation
These words I try to find
I hope to God are worthy of your time
When all my words do to accomplish
Are a sense of unworthy abolish
To a rather revealing relation
That was never a creation

I saw you yesterday, in the same place where you and I would talk
And I saw you today, in the hallway, looking in the opposite direction
I saw you yesterday, under the same tree where you and I would meet
And I saw you today, in the classroom, holding the hands of another guy
I saw you yesterday, in the fields where you and I would play
And I saw today, in those same fields, talking to your new group of friends
I saw myself yesterday, in the house where we would hang out after school
And I saw myself today, in the same house, with no one but my shadow to accompany me

It's hard knowing
you're not in the right location
when everyone ahead of you
is doing so much better than you are,
and when you try to follow them
you get lost in throngs of people
who are
just
like
you.

You become plastered to the stereotype
like the same boring wallpaper
in the same mundane house;
the kind that someone wants to cover
with accomplishments because it's too ugly
to deserve even a quick gander.
And that's alright with you
because it's just how you feel: ugly.

You become melancholy at the thought
that every word you try to spread on that
revolting wallpaper in an attempt to make it beautiful,
before someone else tries to do the same,
just keeps being buried under yet another outstanding triumph
from someone who isn't you.

It's beyond difficult to understand
you aren't in the right position
to become the dream you made up inside your head
as you step over boundaries that are faded
in hopes you can immediately be where you desire
and require
when the design has a necessity for time
and careful planning.

And all you want is to find your escape
because the stress that continues to bear down on you
is pulling at your center as well.
You've no idea where your home is,
but it certainly isn't in the arms
of the mattress you claim solace in every night.

They claim that home is where the heart is,
but your heart isn't with you.
It's living luxury somewhere else.
It's every
single
day
you hear yourseld murmuring
'there's no place like home'
But you don't receive that free trip by clicking your heals.
You don't find your way home
by following that rabbit down a hole.
Can you find where you belong?
Or will you be lost forever in this Wonderland like me and everyone else?