Still They're Unread

It's there story, mostly said inside their souls. Shouted out frequently in tumultuous thoughts, Regrets of mostly who they're. They want to disappear , I want to disappear Just because am seen the other way. Being misunderstood and put astray. Being tagged aloof by the most sly, Mostly think they made it And see us as high. Yet we've not been read. We're through the earths rough cliffs, Rough edges and desperate scoffs, Through their unfunny jokes, bluffs And stereotype jokes of rough Misunderstanding and being unread. The pain is inflicted on its highest qualities, Jokes tearing through our jokes, Like bullets, And then melt down our confidence, Of our hidden rich souls, no offence. They say, you feel me, you have been there. You evidence this, They're not to blame But to correct. Not to misunderstand, and unread.