I'm not a huge fan of students. Especially ones in my own age group.
Where most kids deem themselves a depressed, special snowflake.
You know, like every other person to have existed.
But just like most others, I've got a handful I respect.
No, I don't converse with them.
I just might give a nod, or smile as they pass by.
...Sorry, scratch that. I'm simply neutral towards them.
It's hard for me to respect much of anything.
Especially here, in this zombie infested academy.
Where nearly all conform to the lovely disease called society.
Everything is so perfectly organized
It's all so bland and boring,
Just like the words boring and bland.
I only respect a few lucky souls. But, that's biased on my part,
They're only my friends.
Well...there's one other, I guess.
I suppose I don't have a good reason to.
I just like what I have seen.
This person has a brilliant mind
That intensely piques my curiosity.
If I were one to actually share my mind and talk
I'd ask them how they come up with ideas so engrossing.
Such outdated, out-of-the-box, ran-out-of-all-reason limericks.
To be honest it's all music to my ears.
They've got hold of this...of this voice.
It shatters my ignorant views
Piecing together a more new, improved, diverse-like mind.
It actually reaches something inside of me
Clutching what little abstract insanity I have left
Fanning at the dieing flame which resides in the depths of my subconscious.
That's the reason, good or not. That's just what their words do to me.
They've got this...this damn gravitational pull.
I'd love to start a conversation
One that I actually know will grab my complete attention
But I don't have a voice that easily reaches anybody's heads.
Hell, I can barely write my chaotic, rumbling tumbling thoughts on paper.
My works just don't have that mystical, ebbing flow like theirs does.
The zero published products can prove that.
Because really, what am I?
A wannabe writer, a moral justice failure,
A hypocritical daydreaming philosopher.
I don't know everyone's thoughts, or if they're bland!
Everyone here probably thinks the same thing
When they look at this quiet kid settled idly in the back
That I'm some everyday catatonic drone with no plan for their future at all.
The very person I respect probably even thinks the same thing.
We've barely exchanged words but I still write this about them
As if we were comrades.
Through their perspective I'm most likely a cliche
Four-eyed creep who keeps glancing at their turned backs
That is utterly enticed with the person inside that I see-
Wait.
...
Oh my God.
I like them.
