Calling Home Poem by Lonnie Hicks

I always forget and say have a good day

I am friendly
with people I just met
and don't know
and they think that is strange.

I offer sympathy
but understand that I don't really
understand the awfulness
I sometimes hear.

I confess
I do not really like most of people here
they act weird.

I am the most colossal case of mistaken identify
and no one seems to see me
or understand me
and I can't tell them
who I am;
I am not sure myself.

I am only sure
I not who they think I am.

I can be in a crowd and suddenly feel sick
when I realize
no one knows I'm there.
I look at others-
especially the talkative ones-
and feel jealous.

I am prettier when I smile-
that what they tell me.

I like this boy
he likes me
but he doesn't act like it.

Sometimes everyone knows
what they are doing
but me.

But I don't like what they are doing.
I don't like it here.
It is cold.
Ok.
Goodbye.

Thanks Mom for listening.