I Don't Wanna Sound Cliché

I walk through the crowd, bearing the only visible frown
In a sea of fake smiling faces. They all look at me
Strange, and several ask me what's wrong. I tell them
It doesn't matter, knowing that they don't really care,
They just wanna know why I'm not gonna be like them.
They walk around, each one stuck in a rut. Bored by the
Routine of their day-to-day lives, most by now
Have come to hate what they have defined as
Success. For years I have told them, "Money won't
Buy happiness." While they looked at me like I
Was a lunatic. So they bought their new cars,
Their fancy clothes, and every other
Material possession they could desire, while
I sat back and marveled at the beauty of
Simplicity. I'd tell them again, but it's no use.
They will never listen. But when, for some odd
Reason, one of them decides to open up to me,
Since I seem to be the only one letting my true
Colors show, I will just look at them and say,
"Hey, you know, you get what you pay for."