K. Barratt

weird boy DroningGlow

(Image Droning Light)


Like a bird through the night,

Like a gecko in the snow,

Like an owl nesting in a dancing hall,

Like the shame hidden in the laughter.

Like ripped tights and bloody

Knees at the ballet performance,

Like a bear in the alley way,

Eating from a rusty bin,

Like a mother at the club,

The babe parked in the push chair, outside.

We don’t belong,

But here we are.

And we hold on, as best as we can,

Pretending no one sees us,

Too busy as they are,

With their own, shitty life.

Against the wall we stand,

Fantasising we don’t exist.

Like the fire bird who lights up

The forests, and the silver nymph

who brings down the rain.

We are an oddity.

A drunkard in the physics class.

A feminist learning to make pies

To support the Miss Universe contest.

We just don’t belong.

But we are supposed to go on

In a world that is not ours.

Smile, wide.

Work, hard.

Be ambitious, bold, a success.

Love children, grandparents and pets.

Support an ideology,

Buy clothing we don’t need

To save the economy.

And we abide.

And we pretend.

And most times, we fail.

And in the free time,

We knock. Knock, knock

Against the walls.

The windows, fridges, doors;

Ceilings, thresholds, tree

Trunks with big holes.

Trying to find the way back to

Where we belong.

The world where we

Are weird no more.

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