I’m not that guy you saw in the club.
I’m not that guy mistook for a thug.
I’m not a punk, or a hipster, or both,
but honestly, are you allowed to be both,
shouldn’t it be one or the other?
I don’t have ink or colorful sleeves,
No hoops through my lips, or brows can be seen,
I may be too boring to fit in your scene,
but I never cared that much…
…or I would have done so, a long time ago..
But here’s a surprise, regarding my eyes,
Like many swank hipsters, they operate fine.
I see you, so trendy, surrounded alike,
To get in your circle I might sacrifice..
well…I like you for the same reason they do,
not because I got to know you, I just like the way you look.
Don’t get me wrong, I love your art too,
But I’d rather see what your life has tattooed,
Beauty and style are small parts of the whole,
Not even a fraction of content of soul.