Fitting In

I must pretend to be the kind of mind
I'm not if others are to let me play
Or work. I have to hide myself and bind
Myself if I'm to find myself one day

Included by a world who thinks of me
As having a disease or deficit
Because I take their words literally,
Because the way I'd like to be won't fit

Their narrow view of normalcy, because
I think their smalltalk dull and want to talk
Instead (and endlessly) about the laws
Of nature and complexity. They balk

At my obsessions, wonder why I sit
Alone and rarely want to interact,
And wonder why I do not care to fit
With them, but rather work.If I lack tact,

It is because I see through the veneer
Of tribal signals, seen for what they are.
I wlll not lie, expect it from each peer --
Naively, every time. Can I go far

When everyone demands conformity
And I cannot conform? My mind's not theirs,
My brain's not structured so. My certainty
Is seen as arrogance. All of this wears

Me down, this acting I must do each day,
Pretending I am them, and failing at
The task each day. But if I don't, then they
Exclude me or, worse, treat me like a gnat.

And so I must pretend to be the kind
Of mind I'm not because I cannot shirk
Responsibility -- so I must find
A balance so that I can live and work.