She struts about, a flame of light in darkness.
So different, in our strange and mundane world.
With not a care as to what others think,
She speaks her mind with clarity and bluntness.
How beautiful she is; yet, she denies this.
Attention she can hold; yet, in the end,
The crowds disperse, and she is left alone.
For all she is, no one will be her friend.

You strut about, a flame of light in darkness.
So different, in our strange and mundane world.
You have no care as to what others think,
Still, I ask you with clarity and bluntness:
How can you possibly deny your beauty?
Your uniqueness intrigues me to no end.
But I confess, you are too strange for me.
For all you are, I cannot be your friend.

I fumble, as I find no light in darkness.
I sit trapped in a strange and mundane world.
I wish I did not care what others thought,
That I could speak with clarity and bluntness.
I'm beautiful, they say, but I deny this.
For I am lonely; though I may pretend
To be carefree and fine, the fact remains
That I am not a single soul's best friend