Sunny Side Up
Some people call me crazy.
Or backwards.
Or strange.
I could give you a list of all the words.
They all mean the same thing.
I’m the only dull spot surrounded by vivid colors.
It terrifies me, but being dull only makes me that much more special.
I’m unique. One of a kind.
Or maybe I do need help.
So what if my head isn’t screwed on properly?
Or if I’m not the most creative person in the world?
Who cares that I’m not a jock or an artist or an egghead?
So maybe I’m not the most outgoing person in the world,
Nor am I the prettiest or the funniest human being.
Does it matter that I’m a circle trying to fit into the mold of a square?
When can I figure out what I am or where I fit in?
All I do know is that for now,
I’m sunny-side up with yolk running down the edges.
And until I figure it all out,
All I can say is: That’s just me.
