The broken barricade

You surround yourself with people whom you’d like to call as friends.
They laugh, you tag along; they talk and you listen.

They laugh at lame jokes over bottles of beer and games of poker,
You cheer and cry and toast – clank, the sound of glass against glass – like you understand,
But you don’t. Not ever, not even once.

When they laughed, you stayed quiet and listened; their voice breaking through all barricades in the room,

People you can never understand with because boy, do they live in a different world than you do.



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