I often wonder,
on most nights,
how does the world see me?
Do I look like I came
form somewhere beyond?
Do I fit in or stand out?
Do people care or just label me as smart?
Am I important, a can't do without?
Or do people wish, and wish,
that I weren't here?
Do I touch their black hearts
and make them as lively as day?
Or does the world touch mine
and turn it into clay?
Can I ever belong even though
I've never been?
Can I achieve what I deserve to win?
Or am I an outcast for the whole world to see?
So all of them can point and laugh at me.
Mistakes are sometimes made and I could be one.
Or am I the one who they've been talking about for years?
I often wonder,
on most nights,
Is this how the world sees me?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem