As I sit among few in our self-prepared cage,
I look out at the world and think it's strange
How little we have in common, yet we must
Coexist or risk degrading into worn down dust.
They wear cut-off jeans and darkened hoods,
I wear clean cut shorts and polo shirts.
They're doing it to make their thoughts clear,
I'm doing it because I never really cared.
They go for the next-gen, so crisp and so cheap,
But I'm nostalgically pining for retro meat
Of which many others have created fond stories
From, and I have failed to replicate their glory.
They embrace indie rock, metalcore and rap,
Yet I fell into the inconvenient trap
Of being raised on electronically distorted songs,
Causing apathy in me on whether it sounds wrong.
We both look the same, yet we act on different sides,
And seeing the number of by-the-book teens, I realize
That we can't coexist, not for long anyway;
You want people like you, not people like me.
So we keep to ourselves, move on, and fade away,
Fade away from reality itself by letting the days
Pass us by as you sit on the right side of social dysfunction,
And I start devouring my bland selection of food for luncheon.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry Corner
PoetryThis is a collection of poems that I have written that range from light and bubbly, to highly disturbing. Please vote if you like them and comment if you have any questions, although I may refrain from answering.
