Locked in, a prisoner of your own invention
All people made out of the same pattern
Taught to be unique to be different
But all in the spectrum of individuality
Rather than blotches of true color
More like shades of gray
And if eyes are windows to the soul
Half the world must be blind
Like pieces and parts scrambled together
Somehow supposed to make the gears mesh
And join the ranks of normality
Society banks on uniformity
Those whose pieces simply won’t fit
Are tattered scraps thrown to the wind
Not our fault we say
It takes a village to raise a child