Being in a room so energetic and bright, 

Yet still suffering in silence. 

But why is that?

The room is loud.

        The room screams of joy.

        The room highlights all differences in myself.

I am energetic.

I am bright.

I am loud.

And I scream in joy.

                                 But I suffer underneath this act I put on.   

I am standing in a rainstorm with an umbrella, yet I am still getting wet.

I am like a pink elephant in the middle of the room, because I am different. 

A pink elephant that should be noticed,

                                                                                         but it is not.

I am suffering, yet my problems are not as bad as the person who sits next to me, so I cannot compare.                    

             I am silent, I am silent. I am silent.

             Is this why I am suffering?

             Is this supposed to be this way?

             The room that is so vivid and complete: highlights everything I am

                                                                      not.

                                                                  Hiding behind my mask I put on everyday,

                                                                          because I cannot let my emotions slip,

                                                                                                       or I will become weak.

                                               The room becomes so silent. 

as if a pink elephant walked into the room- and it wasn’t just me.

The room suddenly was a reflection of myself.

            silent and weak.

                        All the laughters became sorrows,

                                      And all the sorrows became tears.

                                                     this act I put on had fallen off,

                                                                     But I still suffer in silence.

                           Because the person next to me still has it worse.

                                           The pink elephant was never there.

                                                  Though I wanted it to be. 

                                                Maybe it wouldn’t be silent.

             But these thoughts in my head drown out all noise

And I’m still suffering.

And I’m still silent,

weak.

                                              The elephant is in mystery head.

                                                         The elephant is loud.

                                                The elephant screams of joy.

                                  The room is content with the pink elephant.

                                                                                               The room should be silent.

                                                                                                           Silent the way I am.

                                                                                                                     Still Suffering.

Suffering in silence. 

As nobody notices.

Hoping somebody would notice my suffering,

                           without needing a pink elephant in the room,

                                                     hoping my suffering could be loud enough

                                                                                    to compare to the pink elephant.

                                                                                                                         but it is not.

                          so I still sit in silence in this classroom that is so loud.

                        the classroom that highlights all the differences in myself.

                                    still suffering in silence, as all else is loud.

                                                       and nobody notices.