Blend Right In
They are all stuck up jerks.
Though I befriend them all.
They talk about themselves.
Their lives, their stuff, who's at the small.
When I open up my mouth to reply
they don't even take a glance.
They listen to me?
I blend right in
they complain when I
keep my mouth shut.
Things pay more attention to me, like the sky.
I don't matter.
They are too polite too agree.
But if I realize, I do observe,
can't they feel what's true, can't they see?
I blend right in, I observe.
I know everybody's actions.
Everything I do,
I can predict their reactions.
Rebbecca Peninsulari's Other Poems
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