Misfit
An original poem about feeling out of place among parties, purses, and public personas — a misfit who expects right to be absolute.
Photo by Yann; edited by King of Hearts, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons
I wonder if I am a misfit
When friends want to eat
Why is it that I want to sit
And read a book
When there is a party
And mindless chatter all around
How am I not able to see the joy in the countdown to the next Louis Vuitton purse
I could sit on a chair thinking about a perfect word like the lone horse
For the whole day
Perhaps I am a misfit in a world full of worldly wise
Where everyone is trying to show only the good side
What matters most is their public persona
Kindness is a word that's fit for the books and shows only
Perhaps I am a misfit expecting right as being absolute
Where right is just a long suit that people wear to hide their scarred selves
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