There are so many, too many, humans in the world,
Who are silenced, forgotten, voices never heard.
We make snap judgments based on race,
Appearance, or simply the look of their face.
But each of these people in the world,
Has a story that needs to be heard.
Maybe it won’t make a difference at all,
But at least try to listen to one little girl’s call.

When I’m seen there’s more than meets the eye,
What makes me more than a bag of skin with a soul inside?
To most of the masses, I don’t exist,
Just a random name on a page of an endless list.
But there are those in my life to which I matter, a lot,
And for those people out there I’d gladly be caught,
Then put in prison till the end of my days,
And for me I’m sure they would do the same.

But people are more than those who surround them,
Each one tiny thread in a beautiful hem.
Without each person we’d all surely fail,
When we try to hang on without each other, it’s to no avail.
So how can one go off without hurting the rest?
It’s the challenge of life, you’re put to the test.

We’re all just a note in an off-key ballad,
Till we become the pallid face of an invalid.
So what are my hopes, dreams, and ambitions?
I hope not to fail, that’s one of the things that I’m wishing.
But “Who am I?” The question still holds.
Well, we’re both still wondering because I don’t really know.

Do we ever truly get to define?
Who we are, while there’s still time?
So maybe the question isn’t “Who am I?”
Maybe it’s “What?” or “How?” or just plain “WHY?”
So why define yourself when you don’t really know?
I could say that I’m blonde or that I run slow.

We must all go on a journey to find our true selves,
The only way to become one cent in a sea of wealth.
But in the end, does it all really matter?
Whether you’re worthwhile, unique, or a mad hatter?
Whether it’s natural, disease, or a blow to the head,
It’s stardust to stardust we all end up dead.