To have never belonged, she knew well, trying to find someone to help, they only said farewell
To this response, she was abandoned in her solidarity, finding solace in her life's dull reality
From bus stop to train station, to cheap motels in deep exploration-there had to be more to life
she adventured through concrete jungles, she even became a wife
but after painful heartbreak and plenty of tears, she realised her mistake
So off to see a new scene, now unsure of her peers, she was the one and only underground queen
in the cacophony of drug infested squalor and yet still she did not belong
the uncertainty making her heart throng, painful poverty, but plenty of alcohol so it's fun
"It's fun" she said, but she always looked for that one thing that was missing
it wasn't love, nor was it wealth, nor was it beauty, it was only belonging
Hours spent over cups of coffee and smoking cigarettes, this never ending search making her fret
So once again she went, now she would repent and find her vocation
Singing in bars, graffiti on walls, stuck in this city, she felt really quite small
"I'll hitch hike my way to freedom" said she, a smile on her face, standing proud with a stuffed suitcase in hand
Thumb outstretched, not really prepared for the boredom that waiting for a ride would bring her
But soon her rides came to her, some were kind however some lied
Eventually freedom came to her and she stood on a country lane, glad for the presence of her hood
as rain pelted down from the heavens, a small frown creased her features
but now wondering farmland, the whispers and stares bringing her unwelcome fame
"City folk" she was known as, shut out from their acceptance, she was left only to ponder
Still she did not belong, this knowledge so painful
She was but an outsider to everyone’s disdainful eyes, why did they dare to pry?
Now she would bid farewell to them and to her soul she would stand condemned
Condemned to be alienated by society or liberated by herself
Shared by everyone or abandoned on the shelf
She knew she belonged nowhere
so nowhere she would be
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YOU ARE READING
Blue Moon
Poesia"Still she haunts me, phantomwise, Alice moving under skies Never seen by waking eyes." - Lewis Carroll, Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There (2012 - 2014)