Always trying to fit a mold
Wanting to belong to some group
My originality has long grown cold
I'm just another letter in alphabet soup
Unable to ever completely mesh
Longing to be "different" to conform
Trying to hide failures from the rest
Unaware I'm sliding into the norm
Trying to do the things same as everyone else
But no one is the same, so constantly I fail
Another book on an endless shelf
Another letter in the mail
Longing to somehow be unlike the rest
Yet also yearning to be just like them
Why does life have to be this difficult test
Who will I be in the end
Different from the majority
But is it just because
I want to be like the minority
The ones who look like us
I try to be and act like them
So am I not the same?
As the barbie Wannabes
Playing this insane game

 
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