Bella Holt Poet Rhyme

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

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