The Same Difference

People say a lot of things

They say, "Everyone's different

in their own way,"

But, "Everyone's the same inside"

They also say.

Just a bundle of contradictions, aren't we?

The human race

With our limited mind space

Not everyone can keep up the pace

But the one thing I'll throw in your face,

We're all different, but we're the same.

I used to think,

Not everyone can look like her,

Few but him can kick the ball that far,

Only she can write songs that would fuel a war,

None but he can draw eyes as deep as the ocean afar.

But now, I see

She has tears and tantrums,

And he kicks everything but the ball,

Her songs erupt in fire,

His brush frozen in mid-air:

No inspiration at all.

These very different actions have a common denominator

No matter in how small fractions,

The same feeling is the confronter:

Sadness, emptiness, depression, pain;

We're all different, but we're all the same.

If she walks down the street with her head held high,

We never mistake to label it "pride".

Conceit, vanity, and arrogance she hones,

But couldn't it just be a broken collar bone?

Or maybe, she stood triumphant

when life tried to make her insane.

All plausible scenarios,

But all she's seen as is vain.

If she bows her head down, all we see is shame,

Not modesty, or humility, or submission –

What did I tell you:

We're all different, but we are all the same.

So, she likes to paint; red streaks are her flair.

But the other girl, she likes red streaks in her hair.

Him? He likes red streaks too,

But not on a typical canvas;

The red comes from his own blood

But only because the tears are scarce.

But why?

And why does this red hurt when we see it?

Aren't we accountable for the crimes we commit?

Sometimes it's about just turning your head away,

Not thinking he might have something important to say.

He screams and cries out loud for breathing room –

We just call him crazy; when will we realize

the difference between scars and battle wounds?

We all deal with the feelings differently,

She just writes a sad song.

But what she honestly needs, no one gives –

To just be earnestly asked out loud, "what's wrong?"

So she bides by her time despising this "life" named game,

Thinking, "They are all different,

but they are all still the same."

People say a lot of things,

The number of their words knows no bounds.

But the number "7 billion" can mean

much more than it sounds.

There are 7 billion people in our world

After all these years,

Where happiness means 7 billion smiles,

But sadness means 14 billion tears.

Just a bunch of messed up thoughts, aren't we?

The human race

With our priorities misplaced

Not everyone can win the race

But you have to be in it to say, "In your face!"

So keep your head down, from modesty not shame,

Listen to the person next to you

without treating them like a mind game.

Give her some chocolates if you like her name.

Finish that song, and for once, not for fame.

Would seeing that kid smile really be that lame?

Remember, even though we're different,

We're all exactly the same.