Branded Loser

I feel like an underdeveloped,
socially awkward adolescent,
delegated to the sidelines,
measuring esteem against
athleticism of those who
made the grade – a failure.

I feel like in my ineptitude,
I have hosted a party, bent
on celebrating the prowess
of others – created the perfect
environ to appear the team
player – oozed congeniality.

I feel as if it’s free food
that attracts the guests,
and my malaise that repels,
esteem trampled beneath
the feet of hasty retreats,
and unappreciative takers.

I feel perpetually locked
in other-ness, an oddball
whose best efforts barely
penetrate the self-assured
wall of social acceptability,
self-branded an outcast.

th

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6 comments

    1. As with much of my poetry, this one evolved from a dream – I recognized aspects of myself in the character and thought others would also. Thanks for your kind words.

      Like

  1. Intense, real, transparent, and raw. I felt as if I were looking into the mirror. The pic you posted at the end rings true, but sadly even if we don’t give it permission, the blindsides do. Keep spilling your blood on “paper”, You have no idea how many you are helping, including me.

    Like

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