There are always people who do not live within the world
You can only find them in the outskirts
though not the usual ones; you have to look through, not closer.
You will always find stories about them in books,
but those that no one picks up, and those that never will reach the library.
There are movies, but they are all a scene; they don’t really know how it feels.
It’s not even so easy to explain how it exactly is, to live in the shadow.
Visible, but unreachable, even if you think you made the connection, that’s just a sad none-truth.
I can’t explain, because I seem to be one of them.