Poem Comments

Odd-One-Out

Blood, sweat, tears and screams,
oh how I hate nights like these.

Filled with pain.
Filled with hurt.
People all around me feeling like dirt on the ground.

How I feel like the odd-one-out.
How I feel so mature and old.
Immature, imbosels surround me.
Don't have clue,
What's real,
And what's fake.