Not Crazy
By Fallon Sanada

A/N: A poem from Sekhmet. I know it's long, but that's how it worked. ^_~


They call me insane
but what do they know?
Do they know how it feels
to completely lose control?
How can they name
what they do not know
how can they think to tame
one who doesn't grow?

They call me insane
because they don't know me at all
yet they pretend they can see
that missing inner harmony.
They think that they know me
and yet they are blind
do they even think
that I may have my mind?

They call me insane
but they don't care.
They think I don't see them
but I watch them go.
They never stop to think
that perhaps they are wrong
they think they are always right
but I think that they took a left turn.

They call me insane
and make no effort to help
nor, does it seem,
to know the real me.
They think, perhaps
that I'm so lost I don't hear them
yet every word I listen to
reopens a hidden wound I hide.

They call me insane
but they don't see
the man that lies inside
this armor of green.
Maybe they think
that behavior is all
but did they ever stop to think
that maybe I'm not crazy at all?