The real difference

wrote fr a ply whre chrctrs brk up & gt bak togthr to se that ther dffrncs are jst to grt

I am not like the people I am surrounded by,
I don't like the same things,
I don't cook the same food,
I talk differently,
I wear different perfume,
I wear different clothes,
I don't walk the same way.
I don't think the same way,
I wish it would rain or snow or sleet,
I sweat to much,
I don't work the same,
I go along in a different way.
I'm a goddamn palm tree,
a foreigner,
a rat,
an alien.
They don't belong here,
they were brought in
and they look it,
just like I do.
I feel like some ones excess baggage,
everyone occasionally sees me as someone
who pays attention,
but other than that
I just want to disappear.
I know what it is too,
I push it hard.
The thing is,
I push so hard because
I want things to be better,
I want them to be better,
I want, I want,
I want us to be better.