A Day of Truth

There was a time
although no one really
remembers it like I do

That I played along
very well, made a huge
effort at conforming

At fitting in

Yet, I never did
not once
I always invoked fear
or suspicion or dislike

And the reasons were small
things readily accepted in
others, but not in me

Was it because I was different?
Maybe.  Something else?
I think people just knew
I was merely playing along

So I gave up being
correct, one of the crowd
blending in and disappearing
into the collective woodwork

If I’m going to be disliked,
shunned, ignored, or vilified

It’s going to be on my own terms


One thought on “A Day of Truth

  1. Morocco says:

    Yu should make a book! I did with my own poetry and it was so theraputic–plus so cool to look at, lol.

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