Nomad
I never seem to say
what's exactly on my mind
holding it back
with nauseating civil decency
But I don't want to be civil
I'm finding it such a load of drivel
Torn down the middle
goodness and blackness
ridiculous wickedness
The devil is alive and well
try living inside this hell
This cell of a home
that tries to disown
Strained ties of family
now I've become the enemy
Friends are like sinking ships;
Only wanting you around
for so long
then it all goes wrong
and only having felt
that you've never truly belonged
Where can you take it from here?
A well thought of retort
and a seething sneer
or just turn around and disappear?
The older one gets,
the blandness seems to just take over
Each day blends into a weekly duress
as life spirals into a complete mess
Why am I still holding on?
Just about forty three years
of regurgitated tears
Courtesy of these so-called peers
the ones who shake your hands
then wish you dead
because your life is queer
completely foreign to them
Yet the shoe fits you, too
but condemnation doesn't suit you
So this dance continues on
with or without,
Struggling alone
with this self recrimination and doubt
Trying to see a silver lining
that only seems to bleed lead
Wandering this earth a nomad
with such a heavy burden
on one's own head
Optimism is dead
mathiasthom
written 4/15/10
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