I'm the miscellaneous,
The one who doesn't fit.
I'm the miscellaneous,
The one you just can't get.
Inquisitive peering eyes,
Starring at your soul.
Do I make you nervous,
Since hiding is your goal?
What makes me,
The way I am?
Perhaps I am fake,
Just a sham.
Reason would,
Suggest otherwise.
I'm the one,
Not the disguise.
What makes me tick,
Makes time go by?
Why am I an irritation,
Like that of a sty?
Trying to get a closer look,
I'm still too far away.
Trying to pry into me,
But inspiration won't stay.
I'll tell you now,
You've got the jest of me.
There's not much more,
That I'll allow you to see.
Will you ever figure me,
Ever know me well?
Who knows,
Only time will tell...
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