I like to keep quiet sometimes.

I don’t always have something to say.

At school, they’re always talking.
And laughing.
And grinning.
And often I’m left in the dust.

I’m not stupid or haughty or in a bad mood,
I’m just
different.

-------------

People say: “Being unique is good!”

So they all dye their hair, get tattoos, pierce their nose…
They giggle for no reason, do “weird, quirky things”,
And then they say:
“Well,
that’s what makes me unique.”

But...
If everyone’s doing it,
how is it unique?

So many say they are unique,
But they aren’t,
Acting like everyone else
In that “unique” crowd.

If the trend is “unique”,
It is just that.
It’s pop culture…

-------------

Unique: “existing as the only one
or as the sole example;
single;
solitary in type or characteristics” 

I would say I’m unique.
I don’t go with the trends.
I stick by myself.
My own thoughts,
My my own mind,
Is my only companion.

I try to find someone like me.
Who I can understand.
Who can understand me.
But I can’t.

I’m unique.

But guess what?
It’s NOT a trend.
It’s being alone.
An obvious contrast from the stifling masses.

I’m a lone bird with no flock,
Not a white crow
who just sticks with the others,
And yet claims uniqueness…

Being “unique” on the outside is easy.

But with a unique mind...
It’s not glorious.
Not fun.

Unique people are the only ones out for themselves in this world.
It’s a tough, lonely life,
Being unique.