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Strangerous Feb 8
We huddled at the edge and watched the wind
Blowing north the water flowing south
The willows swaying weeping for the dead
The sun forever going going down

This hideaway we haunted harbored hordes
Of ghosts of outcast lovers hanging on
To all the times they huddled there before
Their time ran out and they were gone

The ghosts of outcast lovers will attend
Whenever outcast lovers come to burn
The fire of the force at their command
For they are cold cold and they yearn

It’s ages since we huddled in our lair
While other outcast lovers came and went
We’ll join the ghosts of outcast lovers there
When our time runs out and we are spent
(c) 2025 by Jack Morris

Hear the song on SoundCloud:
soundcloud.com/therealjackstrange/love-haunt
hsn Jan 8
life is the steel prison that is a birdbox
solemnly, i am the bird that lives within it

and alfresco the cage, the covey glide

i watch everyone take flight and
be able to soar the azure skies
as i stay behind forever and feel
disturbed by stripped wings of calm
once a pariah
forever a pariah

-
I walk the streets
Looking for friends
I walk the streets in
The middle of the night
As I am in search of
Of friend life forms
But only to
Be met with hate
Only to be ridiculed
Only to be
Forced to fit in
Kaiden Lewis Nov 2024
Poetry,
The language that only we,
The freaks of the world
Understand.
Another one i wrote when i was 12-13 years old, i had an entire binder for my writing and it had a paper sticker on it that obviously said "writing", this short poem was hidden on the other side, only to be seen when the sticker is taken off.
silver light Sep 2024
why must i be viewed as an anomaly in this world?
as i gaze into the eyes of those who are above me,  i can only wonder.
for what have i done that is considered sin? is my mere presence like
a gilded elephant in a room of monochrome silhouettes? i hold firmly
on the last vibrant balloon of my fleeting conviction as i walk between the masses,
wondering “what have i done to deserve this hell?” as i tread the roads
of this winding society, i let loose of the balloon, and the colors begin to drain from my life.
now, i am but a puppet of society. tie the string around my arm and carry me like a balloon,
and let me go as the days pass. let me fly into the skies to eventually pop
and plummet back down as you find your new toy, and repeat the process, as to you i was but rubber and plastic. and i am. i am rubber and plastic - let me rot for the solstices to pass as my dead body gazes into the sky for a lifetime, awaiting to be buried in the soil. i am but the pieces of the fragile material that endured too much pressure and just popped.
first poem !!
Jeremy Betts Jul 2024
•••
Welcome home
•••
Heart of stone
House of glass
Fault is not mine alone
Karma credit blown
It happens fast
With no receipt shown
The last to know
A forced outcast
I didn't get here on my own
A house of glass
And a single stone
Another broken home
•••

©2024
Jeremy Betts Feb 2018
No place for me to fit in, sometimes not even my own skin
The 65th crayon on the floor next to the 64 count special edition tin
The two dollar DVD bin is even out of reach, at a loss as to where else to begin
I guess it's back to the drawing board to start over once again
Not a chance of bein' normal as an outcasted heathen
But that's never been a why for me, to fit in is not a win
I've been sittin' in this same place like a mannikin with a phoney grin
A clothespin holdin' together the fabric of my being with such discipline
But a strong gust of wind tears through like blowing your nose into a cheap napkin

Patched together like a quilt of sin read like a story board of which I'm a star in
Stitched together by not giving in, givin' it all I can, taking every shot to the chin
But life's not getting the win by KO or even by decision
I'm gonna need to be taken out the ring on a stretcher with blue skin
But the goal isn't really to win but to survive this doomed zeppelin
I start thinking maybe I can take this aggression and passion and turn it in...
...to a winnin' combination and spread it through the nation
Empower an entire generation, awaken an entire population

But all they'll see is Frankenstein's monster

©2018
Jeremy Betts Jan 2021
The only role I ever land is "outcast tortured by the cruelty and pain of his past" I sure didn't choose this path, feels more as though I've been typecast, or maybe I am a *******, holding out for every last ounce of pain before I blast this trader living in my head for the last 30 years off my shoulders, through a window pane, then, just as fast, turn to the vast hole in my chest that once held my heart and press the cold steel to it with the mass of my dread firmly in my grasp, gun fire drowned out by echoing laughs, fulfilling a prophecy of my future while neglecting lessons from my past, the game of life feels less like a game of chance and more like a test that's harder to advance than all the rest and wouldn't you know it, I fell asleep in class and didn't pass, apparently I even tuned out the emergency broadcast. Went and amassed a losing record that'd be impressive if not for the direct contrast the win column presents and the enormous shadow my downfall casts. Harassed by the devil on each shoulder, I thought that maybe once I got older, if I could just stay on task and remain steadfast, I would be able to open a can of whoop a$$ and trespass the evil within this house of glass but alas I must telegraph my every move or they've seen a future telecast because they lambast each strike and I'm not sure I'll outlast these issues, I'm gassed, plus, problems have started showing up in mass from a much higher weight class, they must have bypassed the weigh in process but I've always known who the deck was stacked against, hence why I never win, I only survive and my methods would flabbergast most, the truth finds it's way to the surface and I find myself aghast, crying like I've been teargassed with no gas mask but I've surpassed the point where waterworks will bring forth empathy, gotta own my involvement in the crash, volunteer to take out my own trash and this time I'll throw my pain out with the bath water and be free at last...free at last, free at last, no thanks to god almighty I'll be free at last

©2021
German Rodriguez May 2023
In shadows cast, I stand alone
An outcast in a world unknown
Misunderstood, a soul apart
I bear the weight of my wounded heart.

In crowded rooms, I fade away
An echo lost in the disarray.
Invisible threads, they pass me by
A silent tear, my whispered cry.

Yet, in my solitude, I find solace
Embracing uniqueness with fierce promise
For within these depths, a light will shine
A beacon of truth, no longer confined.

Though different paths, we all may tread
I'll wear my outcast cloak with grace, instead
For it's in the margins where I find my might
A symphony of colors, painting my plight.

So let me wander, let me roam
An outcast's spirit, forever my home
For it's in this journey, unbound and free
I embrace my truth and claim my destiny
I've always felt as an outcast. I've always been the black sheep within my family and friends. I've also always embraced it. I need not fit in nor will I change because society or others say I'm different. I will always walk my path the way I choose. If I'm understood, great, if not, so be it. My uniqueness is who I am.
scarmaya nicole Apr 2023
can u call it home when u rarely feel included?
i wish u would let me in.
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