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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... 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

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 at last, free at last, no thanks to god almighty I'll be free at last

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.
Nicole Apr 2023
can u call it home when u rarely feel included?
i wish u would let me in.
Odd Odyssey Poet Aug 2022
The same blood you have, is also a curse to have!
I should be glad, but I'm mad as the one dealing
with the pride of some forefathers dad.

I was taught not to place all of my blame on
how my parents had raised me.
But I can't keep blaming myself; as if they'll praise me.
I often grew up wondering what actual resemblance I
had of my dad.

The last born nobody knew, the other son all the relatives
thought was just some random nephew.
The family picture felt too big for me to be noticed in it's frame.
I felt as a son; but only a son by just the family's name.

Seems I wasn't born the same.

All the first impressions of thinking my mother
was just my aunty. Thinking I was adopted by relatives,
because my real family didn't really want me.

"Maybe I was switched at birth," I thought to myself.
We all could be walking on the same ground,
doesn't mean we're all so down to Earth.

I guess I was buried in it,
for constantly being the one to take up the family's dirt.

The theory of a twin, who died in the womb.
I've felt so incomplete. Missing the other half to make me fit.
Hoping I had died that time as a baby; when I had my first fit.

But to my twin up in Heaven I hope you're keeping that space
for both of us. By the chance my sins get ahead of me,
Could I get into Heaven by the chance of your luck?

To my father on Earth, I grew up wondering if I was ever
the son you wanted, or the one you deserved.
Maybe I secretly got on your nerves, as I felt the
disappointment in those many cuss words.

To my mother in church, I'm not your little boy anymore.
Neither that daughter you treat me as.
My manhood to peers, seemed so poor. And yet I'm the ear
that listens to all of your words, but not the mouth to tell
you my many truths by the galore.

To my brothers by name, we all knew we were never the same.
But as life went in one direction, I was the child who went
the other way. I can remember all of those harsh words
you often said. As if I'm tasting them all from too many past

To my sister I never had, life could of been easier if you
were the child the family actually had.
That's all I can say, because that's all that I have.


The Black sheep.
amorev writes May 2022
Little divested flower,
Shame— how you break with the peak of light.
A blossom they might think,
You're still a phony stick.
Is it guilt filling the scene?
Or is it just the sunbeam?
annh Feb 2022
Let me fall
Deeply into the heart
Of the wanderer,
Under the dappled skin
Into the belly of the thing
Heavy and warm;
The hermit and the outcast
Is met in me
By the stomp of a hoof,
The shifting
Of weight
As he steadies himself;
I look down at my feet
Aware of toes and heels
Colliding with the ground.

I met an Appaloosa the other week. Pale, dappled and distant among a herd of sleek blacks and solid chestnuts. His name is Cherokee.

‘Blame it or praise it, there is no denying the wild horse in us.’
- Virginia Woolf, Jacob's Room
Filomena Feb 2022
I never make friends;
My friends make me.
And it happens incredibly infrequently.

I'm naturally passive,
and purposefully patient,
so I'm glad for the gift of assimilation.
GaryFairy Oct 2021
grass, gas, or *** nobody rides for free
cops and robbers and the indian hides for me
my *** ate grass got gas and then shies on me
my horse got sores got shot, and dies on me

all us poor kids didn't mind to be a tribe
eenie meanie mighty moe never helped us hide
tony two tooth's daddy likes to run around
his mom is gonna play too and "hunt him down"

one two buckle in my shoe, toys in the attic
hopscotch buckshot semi-automatic
piggy goes to market this piggy stays home
then, this old man comes rollin home all alone

sorry coach but this year i can't go out
daddy blew out his knee and my shoe had a blow out
richie rich called his stepbrother a snitch
sweet summer hits with a hickory switch

jump back charlie jack you know how we feel
bacon comes from a hog boy not from a meal
hoppa fence it's 50 cents for stolen fruit
poppa top drop no deposit no returns pollute
Johnson Oyeniran Aug 2021
-The Neglected woman.

I was an overlooked
Trampled without a care
For my welfare.

Then you plucked me
And replanted me within
Your keep.

With care,
You nourished an invisible outcast.

At last!
Someone gives a
**** about me!
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