Overlooked

To be born into a world full of eyes And still go unseen, Is torture To want nothing more than warm up the room And then see that your flame has long since burned out, Is torture. To have a voice that cries out like a siren And to notice people covering their ears, Is torture. To know in your heart that they See you, Feel you, Hear you. And yet they pretend. Look passed what you have to offer To a form that better fits their definition of perfection. To be overlooked And made to feel Insigificant, Unwanted, Worthless, Forgotten, Non-existent... To be overlooked And knowing that it's all just an act... Is torture.