Under the Surface

I am sitting on my couch Dreaming of the outside To others an ordinary slouch To me an indescribable ride I see colors and sights Nature and magic and hope I see lonely days and endless nights While others sit and mope I ask sometimes what people see Though different, the same reply They never see like me Ordinary sights can be a lie Opinions are rarely heard Or rather heard until deemed wrong While mine tend to be absurd That is an opinion of those who belong They belong to regular people Those who cannot truly look Only on the surface, a mere prequel Boring reality over a good book Be a person who finds the light Someone who can't blend Not the in front of sight For now it is the end