There are 7 billion
Somehow I feel like there are none
The only civilian
Everyone else thinks I’m gone
They don’t realize
I’m just slowly, deeply, falling
All they do is criticize
Now I feel like crawling
Into a never ending hole
Where they won’t find me
So being my friend can stop feeling like a chore
And maybe then they could see
That sometimes all I need
Is someone to see me fall
To tell me I belong to this breed
And help me stand up tall
Even when I know I can do it myself
A kind hand
That helps me organize my inner bookshelf
Will always be better than a self-reprimand
