Misfit

As I stand and they grin and they chat and they laugh,

I take a sip from my third and my fourth and my tenth whisky;

In my bitter daze I dream I can grin, I can chat, I can laugh

With them,

I am overwhelmed by a sense of inadequacy.

I walk down the street and take note of the new fashions;

Oh how can they mimick each other with such passion?

Their songs all sound the same, boys all dream of a band,

Why is there such an urge to belong, to belong?!

So I am left on my own, without mates, without mate,

I find myself logical, but a fool all the same.

But I try, oh I try! To blend in, to mimick…

My attempts are in vain, and rather pathetic.

So I often wonder, and sometimes feel tempted,

To end the course of this hapless piece of life,

To release in the wild these energies trapped in a meaningless misshapen body,

To go feed in nature flowers, love, and other things of beauty.