They look at me like I'm a stale.
"A typical weird" their eyes say.
It gets me bewildered somehow,
For they are too curious their brows furrowed.
I caught their stares.
Like threatening, "get out of our way!"
They're too unease to where they're placed,
Waiting for my flaws to be undressed.
I'm too shallow they utter in silence.
I knew it the way it seems.
I care less not giving any crap,
And I surmise they're really flapped.
What did I ever do to them?
When they treat me, like I always carry this sullen.
One thing I just hated the most,
To be judged by someone whose mind is malicious.
Enough, I guess for what they're doing.
Not funny, though I'm not butting in.
Stop! I only wanted to shout.
Just to shut their obviously mocking mouth.
Is it my fault to be like this?
Is it bad if things turned me into walking fridge?
Does it kill anyone if they felt my cold
presence?
Someone please tell me it isn't.
I've known for long how people think.
And it makes me laugh so bitterly.
They worship and acknowledge the best,
While they criticize the poor, and the weirdest.
* * *
A.N.: "People are always like that, stare-and-judge." Nah, that line.
YOU ARE READING
Just POETIQUÉ
PoetryWere you lonely? Were you sad? Has everything been bad lately? Unlike the beautiful times you've had. Smile with me. Cry with me. Get mad with this soul. Maybe we'll find a way out of the cold. -JAM MARIANO
