In defense of the outcasts & weirdos
Those strange fellows who demand to be free
Exposing thought & sincerity to open air
To live one’s own life & forever reject conformity
Counting oneself amongst the abnormal
Involuntarily immersed in thought & deed
The action of creating poetic existence
For some days, that might be all we need
It’s always been my nature to resist
Not sputtering words as an endless trope
Never trusting anything popular nor cool
The outcasts & rejects are who give me hope
Now that I’m old, there’s no chance to be cool
I’m that creepy lurker passing the delicates isle
Finding myself lost in nebulous thought
Youth dropping their eyes while I try to smile
You can’t be friendly when you’re a certain age
Somewhere along the line, I missed my cue
Oblivious to the graffiti on the decaying walls
I’m slowly dying, more with each day that’s through
Stuck before I can be the wisened old fellow
Conversations with alter egos as I deliberate
Taunting life with my aggressive apathy
Father Time impatiently waiting for my cryptic fate
A litmus test for fragile character upon my days
Emerging from adulthood with wisdom in my head
Never again a victim to society’s whims
Pushing past expectations; my own hero instead
Rising higher than their own trite requirements
Still not accepted & still the silly old fool
Sketchy, weird & perpetually the outcast
Damn, there went my last chance to finally be cool
Captain Q 