Monday, November 28, 2005

in the outskirts

the outlier
the outsider
the outcast

i've accepted it
i don't belong
in this circle
or that circle

someone must be
the outlier
the outsider
the outcast
in this game.

i will always be
standing on tiptoe
trying to peek
beyond the fence
despite the signs
"Do Not Enter".

it's become easier
to look away
the other way.
i will play
outside of the circle
where i scribble with rainbows
creating in my own world,
creating my own world
with incantations,
so powerful
marvelling even
Harry Potter.
Perhaps, they'll become
the curious spectator.

dr.vodka05



"Walk Away"

I love the sound of you walking away

Mascara bleeds a blackened tear
And I am cold
Yes, I'm cold
But not as cold as you are
I love the sound of you walking away
...........

...........
The stab of stiletto
On a silent night
Stalin Smiles
Hitler laughs
Churchill claps
Mao Tse Tung
on the back

lyrics by Franz Ferdinand

2 comments:

Lorena said...

i love your poem, "in the outskirts"
i can sympathize but i can also see your brilliance in standing tall.

dr.v (Not a narcotic Pez dispenser) said...

lorena,
sometimes i believe life is better in the outskirts....where u can truly be free....free from bad influences....free from bad peer pressure....free from conformity