My shoes,
They are very pretty to me.
I wear them every day, every hour, every minute.
They are like my happiness,
Hugging me, blessing me, and loving me.
And I'm proud I chose these shoes.

Yet however, I walk by people wearing different shoes.
Different color, different look, some closely linked to my shoes.
I didn't care about those shoes, cause who would? That's their shoes.
But every day, I'd see a fight happening
Right around an alley, or in the public street.

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If you did something stupid,
You'll be remembered for it.
You'll be notorious for that something you did.
That past moment will be a slit.

If you did something evil,
You'll be remembered for it.
You will walk the hallways, new and gleeful,
But still, you'll get bit.

If anything good happened in the past...
If you did something good or great...
The moment will be broken, you won't be viewed for who you are,
'Tis be a long-time scar.

It seems to me, so gray,

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Am I Normal?
Sorry I am, it's just a thing that people tell me all the time.
To be Normal.
Look at you, are you that kind?
Are you Normal?
If not, then you might be looked at as a freak.
Only by a couple, though, some strangely, others see you as a Normal guy, too.
So then it occurred to me, I just got it:
Normal is just opinion.

Think of it: Blonde can be shown with yellow hair.
A white person can be shown with white skin.

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I never looked at such a figure,
So large, so full color...
It made me have a crooked smile.
Setting off my faithful trigger,
My heart feeling smaller,
I couldn't handle the image, so vile...
It hurts me to see you, my love, with him...
Kissing under the stars, lips not dim.
I've fallen for you, and I thought maybe we were,
But no, why would I be so sure.
Love isn't always there, I know,
But this... This is woe.

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