I find myself a roaming caution
as i walk the halls of this place i dread
being maneuvered around
if I'm bumped into, no apologies are said
a stick in the mud is all i am
there but never seen
unnoticed as if transparent
as they weave themselves in between
them and me, i mean
the other people walking and i
are moving at different paces
there must be something wrong with my eyes
time just flies on by me
it seems as if i were ageless
so nothing really happens to me
my diary is absolutely page less
nothing interesting goes on
there is never anything new
it would actually be a miracle
if my height were charted and i grew
my parents never know
what is going on in my life
they don't even ask
and i know for a fact, that's not right
i am nothing to the world
no one knows, no one cares
it seems to me that i am not real
i look to my side and no one is there
