Am I blind,
Or do you see too well?
Am I deaf,
Or do you listen too closely?
Am I mute,
Or do you talk too much?

I hear voices in my head,
But you don't listen to yours.
I see things that you say aren't there,
But you miss things that I say are there.
You tell me not to daydream,
But do you even nightdream?

You stare
Into my face
with contempt
But I stare
Into your mind
with pity
And curiosity
About how all that knowledge
You claim to possess
Fits into that tiny, narrow chamber,
And how it even got in
Through that thick, heavy, closed, chained,
Padlocked, bolted, and barred iron door?

You stare
As if I have nothing to offer society,
But what can you offer?
You have exactly what everybody else has:
Indifference,
Smugness,
An attitude,
And a suitcase.
Society has had her fill of all that,
And if you were gone,
She wouldn't miss you.

So is my point of view unrealistic,
Or just too real for you?
Do I need to be locked up,
Or do you need to be set free?
I'm not an oddity,
You're Boring.
And I'm not crazy,
You're just too sane.