His crazed laughing, his creepy staring eyes.

His smile of sharp teeth, the mask he hides behind.

His touchy personality, his strange mood swings.

His yellow eyes, his deep voice.

His tall height, his type of fun.

His strange way with words, his unique appearance.

They all mix together, to make me.

The outcast of life, the one with a heart yet.

No room for love, always busy working.

Always imagining, always dreaming.

Of a better world, of an easier life.

Always trying to smile, always being kind.

Always making friends, always trying to forget.

The things within, my own mind.

Within my heart, isn’t just love.

But also a sickness, called a disorder.

Always lying awake, always thinking.

About the impending doom, called the future.