As a member, a tiny speck, in and of this species,
a mountainous pile - I do feel ( of human feces ) –
is - so many, many times – how I am made to feel.
Are the words, the thoughts, the feelings really real
and are what is thought of, as the essence of this one,
or could this be a way, a game you play for fun ?
I wonder ?, if I am thought of as an old fool !,
or considered nothing more than a large stool !
Upon your social ladder – for me – not a rung
by which I might stand equal or above.
Upon a heap – I seem to stand – of human dung
that keeps me at arms length – from finding love.
With me, you seem to freeze,
sending a cold and cruel breeze
that I am conscious of – you believe I am slow
because of what I do not say – believing I do not know.
B. J. “A” 2
February 4th 2009