On the Periphery of People
On the periphery of people,
who cackle when you bleed.
So hard understanding them.
Nor do they bother to understand me.
I'm the flitting moth, around them.
In their thick black gravity.
Half wanting to be a part of (it)
the other yearns to retreat.
Another year called awkward.
Filled with imperfect fits.
A one-person dance.
To be included is not on my wish list...
On the periphery of people,
it's in my DNA.
To not be a part of anything
Silence is a friend.
Copyright © Anthony Biaanco | Year Posted 2012
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment