I am nothing special
Just a drop in a sea of faces
A gallon in an ocean of souls
Nothing but a grain of sand at the beach
Or a flower in a meadow

So when I write, I try to shine
Like the sun, only brighter,
Because there are brighter stars in the sky
When I write, my life seems so spectacular
So beautiful, like a pearl beneath the sea
Only it's all lies, all of it
I simply weave words to create a tapestry,
Much more special than I
For I am nothing special,
While you are the day and the night

My life must sound so romantic,
So heartbreaking, so heart-wrenching,
It's almost a pity it's a lie
But my main goal of writing is simple:
To take the beauty of words and create a snare,
Which traps reality while I float in fantasy
Or sometimes, I create a wall,
Taller than a tower but short enough for you to survive the fall
I hide behind it so you cannot see the real me,
The one so simple that you'd notice the wall first or a dead tree

I am nothing special
Just snow on a winter's night
Sun on a summer's day
Or silence in the afterlife,
Only the sound of silence is a ring,
Except nobody hears it but me,
Except you,
Except silence
Accept silence on my last eve