I feel unbelonging
To this realm of men.
I chose to sit by the window alone
Because I would rather not be with them.
They took joy in my tears
And I, an imbecile, kept crying.
They don't understand empathy
Not to me, at least.
But I see through, inside them
They feel a little, at least.
Clever in and to the world
Brute and dull to problems.
Unkind and wicked they are
To keep their harm from them.
All of it is mere philosophy
The obvious question lies for me:
Would I stay alone to suffer
Or sympathise to them their struggle
But I don't like how the minds work for men.
YOU ARE READING
Unbelonging
PoetryA poem from the perspective of an unfledged Trying to build a nest on his own To meet the storm head on And fly into the eye of the cyclone.
