E'er since slip of a lad
little boy painfully shy
think Holden Caulfield
Catcher in the Rye,
(a teen cult classic penned by

Jerome David Salinger),
now resuming poem
about me, no why
ne'er beseeched, implored,
or pleaded to our Unitarian father
art thou in heaven...
socially withdrawn kid

wherefore I ne'er did ply
risk taking, and rarely did try
to test (dis)comfort zones,
nonetheless did despair
and silently decry
failing with flying colors plus my

lackluster luck concerning
absolute zero friends, I don't deny
abysmal classroom experience
linkedin with comprehension how to try
adding insult to injury teacher's pet
chosen to help, course

I wanted to disappear and die
feeling utterly inferior no lie
hated life (mine) anyone
could easily espy,
non verbal body language
spoke volumes, imagining

Matthew Scott to vanish
into thin air whisked into sky,
and even now envision well nigh
alien abduction, one garden
(hybrid) variety guy
taken as token Earthling, an ally

among nonhuman species, where
unconditional acceptance doth apply
feted as guest of honor trumpeted
profuse gratitude expressed to fortify
genuine appreciation, where the

multitudes of highly
intelligent robot anoint and deify
one humble scribe formerly
residing in Schwenksville,
the above I certify
as true so please don't vilify.