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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required I didn’t miss the snub Your fancy social club Will just not be requesting my application. But joy, as it turns out, There is no shred of doubt That I too feel the indifferent sensation. One time I wished to be Something others would see: A social star, or at least in someone’s orbit. But inside lurks a streak To be my very own freak The membership committee does not approve it. I suck at being untrue Reflecting you to you. The flimsy cardboard cutout you want me to be: Strutting like you walk, Echoing like you talk, Ergo my general lack of popularity. Should I covet the prize Esteem of aping eyes You bet your perfumed patootie that I’d win it. But I’m not a good monkey. I sure like being punky. For a certainty, my heart is just not in it. I’m just not going to fold, To give up what I hold. Plaid club tie, gate pass for handing over my mind. The things I’ve found are true Are not for sale to you. I’d rather cram a sharp stick straight up my behind. Why don’t I act my age? Why don’t you leave your cage? Maturity does not equal constipation. There’s no need to insult, You’ve all seen my results. Now stop it with all your silly self-inflation. See, I like things that matter Not cocktail chitter-chatter Throw on trail shoes, or write another sonnet. See, I’m the best ‘ol me The world has ever seen Bet your life--just like everyone else’s--on it. Yet perchance we could meet On a flat, open street There could be no end to the things we may discuss. Connection is sublime Through movement, prose, or rhyme Just don’t waste my time with juvenile games and fuss. 2/26/16 (Mostly hexameter, not sure if this is in any particular form.)
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