If everyone looked the same from head to toe
No one would stand out
Personalities wouldn't show
There would be no such thing as different
Because we would all be the same
The only thing that would differ
Would be our first and last names

If our world had one color
The rainbow wouldn't exist,
After sunshine and rain
There would be no pink or purple
The world would be dull and lame
Nothing in the world would vary
And our eyes would only see gray

So let me ask you this question
Please answer it honest and true
Is it really a crime to step out of line and show the world the real you?
Because everyone is afraid
To show their true colors
Because they're afraid
To be ridiculed by others
Would you like this world to be gray?
And have every one be the same?
My answer is no
Because I like to have variety every day

I almost don’t like relating to other people.

Because that means they have the same thoughts I do.
If I’m so different, how can that be?

But maybe I’m not different.
I’m not different at all.

If I’m not different and I don’t think or feel differently,
then what is this terrible feeling that I don’t belong?

There is no sense in this world anymore
I feel sore
Seeing people being all the same
It looks like I am to blame

Personality,
A word that doesn't exists in our dictionaries anymore
Creativity was pruned out
Like the hair on the soldier's head

Money is all they think about
I can't carry out
They are making insane
Making me not the same

I just woke up in my house,
on my couch,
in your jacket.
I called everyone who called me last night,

and no one answered.

I lay here praying no one died.
Or killed themselves.

"You look like you got ran over by a truck."
Thank you.
I'm getting run over by something.
It kind of feels the same.
But it's not a truck.

I’m not at all different
I’ve never made a difference

© Matthew Harlovic

He sips at a coffee
He won't waste.
Is the milk rotten?
Doesn't matter. He's
Had that before.
Nice now, to have food
In the kitchen.

He chuckles in a developed
Version of how he used to.
Pitch rising at the end.
He's happier now
That hungry haze
Has lifted.
That dark *** fiend
Who used to tease me-
He's gone.
Or maybe stifled
By the angel.

But God,
His hugs still crush me.
Those hugs are the same.
The eyes are the same.
The story is the same.