They're so full of themselves, I think,

Maybe they think they're better than me.

The funny part about that is

They don't even know me.

Only what they've built together

From surface bits and pieces,

Interpretations,

Speculations.

Yet they're sure of their impressions

And feel justified in being rude to me.

I'll never understand that side of us, how

It takes so little to be unkind to each other.