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Wishing for the time to halt,
Got me thinking, it's probably just all my
fault.
Chortles heard and overanalyzed,
Is it my hair or just my dismal eyes?
Chomp on the food, I profusely wish I
could,
Felt too exposed, thank God I got my
hood.
Eyes on me, when I enter the class,
My therapist says I'm one anxious lass.
I laugh with joy then the next minute I
keel,
Nobody ever gets how I really feel.
One stutter and it's over for me,
Surely they found me uncouth and I
agree.
They tell me it's all in my head,
That I'm faking what has happened to
me,
Throat heavy and my heart bled,
This haunting dread signed away the
rights to my mental decree.
Only if you could see what I observe,
They laugh and stare and propel me to
subserve.
I'm a pariah in the land of communities,
The only ugly duckling, one of many
mutinies.
They assured they wouldn't judge,
But I saw it coming like a rite of passage.
Promised to be by my side, wouldn't even
budge.
Too alienate me, somehow they
YOU ARE READING
rhymes of the wicked
Poetry· this terrene, so aphotic. my voice unduly too thin. will it even reach the perpetrators or will it be buried within? i, revel in my convoluted, never particularly welcomed but occasional darkness here, as i take path d...
