BEING ORIGINAL
Of course no one wants to be a fake
A copycat
Not that one has no mind of his own
A perspective
Or a way of seeing things the way one sees
Oneself
Or the other or the world out there
The eyes have long seen
The ears have long heard
Something different something delicate
When so young and so innocent
He kept telling them about the sound
And image of what he is
They laughed
It is something peculiar
Not the way they were brought up
All of them
He is original. They laughed. They branded
Him a name he never liked.
He likes himself. But he cannot fit in.
There is so much pain.
He becomes an attractive copycat.
Nice name. Nice belonging.
Perfect camaraderie. Nothing seemingly wrong.
The pain gets deeper. Like a hole inside his head
A hollowness in his heart.
It is dark. It is late now.
They love him. But he wants to die.
They are wrong. It is not the dark that blinds.
It is too much light. Too many.
RIC S. BASTASA
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/being-original/
