Aren't we all so?

I might be all hopelessness and despair

Stuck in a vortex of disdainful feelings,

Some for self, others for the rest,

A convenient mannerism of

Shifting any blame. But aren't we all so?

I might be distance and unemotional existence,

Shrouded in the icy cold entanglement of

Heart devoid of any emotions,

A tough defense mechanism of

Protecting all or even any of what

Has left within. But aren't we all so?

I might be obtuse and unapologetically conceited

Indulged in an endlessly cavernous ocean of independence

Wishing to protect any remnant feelings

From the distressing strands of relations,

But aren't we all so?

I might even be disgrace and condemnation

Not quite fitting within what they deem to be the norms,

An eventful distraction

From what might be normal, just wishing to be

The way I am. But, aren't we all so?

Even for some times,

Even for a few moments,

The fleeting memories flitting around in

The heart and soul?

Aren't we all a bit real, sometimes,

Even for a few times?