They are all stuck up jerks.
Though I befriend them all.
They talk about themselves.
Their lives, their stuff, who's at the small.
When I open up my mouth to reply
they don't even take a glance.
They listen to me?
Fat chance.
I blend right in
they complain when I
keep my mouth shut.
Things pay more attention to me, like the sky.
I don't matter.
They are too polite too agree.
But if I realize, I do observe,
can't they feel what's true, can't they see?
I blend right in, I observe.
I know everybody's actions.
Everything I do,
I can predict their reactions.
Hi Amal!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem