The Outcast

To those who are different, who find true happiness within.

I am the one who's sorrow weeps the worlds curse
Again and again I try to feel, yet nothing works
Darkness filters through my soul, staining me white
As dull as a string, cut lose from a kite
On and on the days pass, ever so boring
As I continue my life, never shooting, never scoring
I'm as gifted as any, made with unique flavor
Mistakenly covered with too much wrapping paper
Like The king of an empire, who hates his land
Or the ego of a crab, who's scared of the sand
Well who are you? They constantly ask me
Why I am the outcast, misplaced as can be.