I saw you today. You seemed okay.
But you're just like me, under our charade,
we're scared and lost.
Afraid of the outside world.
What they might say,
What they might do.
I nearly stepped on you. I thought again.
We're all just trying to survive. Trying to thrive.
You just want out. You are not alone in that struggle.
I picked you up, I'm not afraid of your looks. Or the fact you're a bug.
I understand what it's like to be outcast. I put you down when you curled up.
You're afraid of me, aren't you?
You wouldn't be the first.
I sat you down on the floor, you were upside down.
I didn't mean to do that; I tried turning you back right.
But I messed that up too.
You struggled and fought, to get off your back.
You won't give up, will you?
I wish I was more like you in regards of not surrendering.
But you got tired. Like me. You began getting weaker.
Then you found strength again; you came back harder.
You began trying more and more outlets.
Tried curling, tossing, turning.
And then I had to leave. I couldn't see your outcome. I failed on being there.
Like I always do.
We're not so different.
Me and you.
Everyone says we're ugly. A mistake.
Freaks of nature.
We're knocked down constantly, and we must fight hard to get back up.
Then we give up for a minute.
Then we come back with twice the spirit.