The voice is lost,
under everyone else's.
They all say "why does she matter?"

They laugh that she reads,
Exploring a new fantasy.
The world she always wishes to be.

When will it fade away ?
She glances at the clock,
five minutes to go.
A sigh escapes her lips.

The whispers reach her ears,
"She's a freak"
An outcast for being her own

Originality no more
she fades in the crowd
as does candlelight at dusk

No one seems to notice the loss of her,
someone who could have changed the world.
To see every piece of artwork,
even in the shadows.

People's actions change people,
whether good or bad.
Life is only a thin strand of string.
Anytime it could snap.