Alienated from all the rest, So I snuggle up in my nest. There's a vacant space in my chest, Something that many people detest. In my nest of self love, I'm watched by the ones above. I'm envied by those below, Who's thoughts are only shallow. Why should I fit in with others? The thought causes shudders. Should I be fake to fit in the crowd, When my honesty has been vowed? Should I act different in public, Just because hoes will love it? The basic idea I can't stomach. I put all of my values above it. Who am I to judge a person? I stick to shadows and lurkin. This empty feeling in my chest, Never seems to give me a rest. They detest that I'm stoic. They want me to be heroic. If it's not being myself though, I would rather be six feet below.