and i'm not sure why
i am like this.
and i am not sure
why you are not.
and most of all, i am not sure
why we cannot be
this both together.
i'm not sure why i am more often
than not,
happy.
and i'm not sure why more often
than not, most of you
don't seem to be.
and i am not sure why
i used to be afraid
to tell you my secret, and
i am not sure now
why it makes more sense than ever
to still keep it to myself.

if i cannot give away
my happiness, what a useless treasure
it suddenly seems to be.
if i cannot give my soul away
to heal yours, than
i might as well just be god.

but,

i guess i'd rather be
a powerless fool
always easy to find
in a small room, writing, and smiling, than
an almighty coward
hiding in heaven
unable to.