I feel like a paper balloon

Every time I walk into a room 

Full of strangers 

I am a 2-D origami 

Pretending to be a balloon 

The good thing is 

I can't be popped and fizzle out with a loud hum 

I can neither fly and never stop 

Nothing can bring me down in this crowded room 

I can't breath in this crowd of real balloons

I fold to hide the true essence of myself 

Everyone is pink, red, and blue

But I am blank and fade into the four corners of the room 

Blank, nothing new, nothing to see, nothing to be 

A paper balloon in it's own space being its own thing

Never experiencing new things 

The real balloons say it is what it is 

So it believes what it hears 

Never to realize its peculiarities are its strength 

Real balloons cannot write their destiny 

In fear that they may pop

Real balloons can float away to nowhere forever 

The 2-D paper balloon can write its destiny 

It can fold into anything if it has the imagination 

The paper balloon only needs faith in itself

To discover its true qualities