Strange

January 11, 2014

If I wasn't strange, what would I be?

I certainly know I wouldn't be me.

Being strange is just who I am.

I stand out of place because I can.

I only do what I want to do,

And not what the world expects me to.

I'm the autumn leaf that just won't fall.

But what if I'm not the strange one at all?

What if I'm just the first bird to sing?

The only one doing the appropiate thing?

What if my actions are the right things to do?

What if the strange ones, are all of you?

Something wrong with this poem?

Submitted to a slam

“Slam Against Bullying”

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