Outcast

Probably you're not interested. Why?

I'm an outcast, should I tell you why?

Surprisingly, you continued 'til the third line.

Well, mind if I tell you my thoughts or story in this short kind of poetry?

Wait. Should I drop by in an aesthetic botique and buy myself a nice hair tie?

I did. At least I tried.

"Hey." That's what people say when they saw something ridiculous on you.

Starts laughing, then your tears dropped one by one like a morning dew. 

Am I right?

What else can they do to ruin me from my head to my toe?

They lost sight.

"Understanding is an art, and not everyone is an artist." Says on a quote.

They can't see the best in me because of the fact that they're blind in that manner.

I feel vulnerable.

Maybe I don't need appreciation, understanding does. And it sounds suitable.

Scared, all alone in a cold dusty cave 'till dawn, or countless times already.

And I admit that I'm not good in some tracks, I'm not enough to let the coffee latte taste sweeter and good.

I know it sucks, but what can you do if that's destined for you?

Let me throw that question back to myself.

Myself? Yes, myself.

No one can understand you besides you and yourself only.

"How pitiful." My mind admitted.

Does the blame is on me? Or should I blame anyone?

"No. You should not. That's life." My heart responded.