( or the lonely atoms about to split )

we are in the chat rooms
the corners of coffee shops
under trees in the park
we looks just like everyone else
except we think and feel
we don’t live for today
our eyes are not fixated
on figures walking down red carpets
our eyes are on the page
the blank empire before us
soon to be filled
we scribble our thoughts and ideas
speak our minds through ink on paper

the majority parades in front of us
trying to disrupt our concentration
to make us conform and give in
become insiders


as the majority gathers in a stadium
and prays to their leader in the spotlight
we are the outsiders
up in the catwalks
hiding in the darkness
biding our time

we are so few
together we hardly weigh an ounce
our voices barely audible
but even the smallest rock
creates a ripple
that touches every shore
and breaks every wave