I am apart of the forgotten crowd.

And there isn’t a single ounce of my soul that believes,

I actually have a purpose in this world.

I am misplaced.

I cannot say that

I have always been misplaced,

Although,

Now I know,

Fate meant for me to be this way.

I have no one.

I would be wrong to say,

I am worth it.

And while there’s many who will find this shocking,

“The world is your oyster. It’s up to you to find the pearls”,

Is a false fabrication, and

“The world is a messed up place”.

So as time goes on, I will tell all my different personalities,

That they are not the most important thing in my life.

All these people who judge me will know that,

I am surviving because,

Searching for money or a job,

Is more important than,

Happiness.

Once upon a time, many years ago,

People were happy.

But this is not my truth.

We can never have it.

Happiness is something we can only pursue.

People walk past me and say there is an easy fix,

As if they’ve been in my shoes.

Working hard in a job I despise,

I’ll become an “everyday” American.

I do not believe,

The world is my oyster.

See, in the years to come,

Depression and living on the streets will be my permanent norm.

No longer will it be thought that,

I care about myself and others.

Without a doubt,

I am lazy, manipulative, different, needy, selfish, stupid, and worthless.

One of the dumbest things people can think is that

There is hope for me.

I hate myself.

So you’ll never hear me say that

I am good enough.

I know in my heart that,

The streets define my worth

And that

One day money will make me happy.

I can’t believe that

There is a future.

I am ashamed of myself.

No longer can I say,

I am important.

There are two sides to every story.

Two perspectives,

Two views.

Two sides.

Sometimes, they’re completely different than one another.

And others,