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.