For me,

darkness is like light.

I come out when it's late,

for I can see in the night.

I coo and I cry—

no one can hear me.

I am different, strange,

perched high in the tree.

My head spins around,

my perception is wrong.

Black becomes white,

I don't belong.

People say I'm wise—

and they are correct.

I know what they're thinking.

I am a reject.