Don't we all sometimes stick out?
Don't we all desire to shout?
I don't have the greatest way with words on my own,
But I fight against help, for I don't want words on loan.
I want to speak as I feel, to be accepted for me,
Though I don't know how to reach out, so they all let me be.
I want to feel, and I do try rather hard,
But this sickness in me has left me rather scarred.
This nasty wound that refuses to heal,
So instead I walk on, searching for a new deal.