By Julia Engström

Im living on my own Island, its lonely and cold.
Its true Im not even slightly bold.

My Island is located far from all the normal people, how much I even try I cant reach land.
My feet never touch the sand.

We dont speak the same language, I dont beat around the bush.
Sometimes my straightforwardness makes people blush.

I rarely have the right nuance and color on my words.
Maybe thats way I belong among the lonelybirds.