Social Outcast

I look like I have been awash,
swept away, with misery.
Exiled from my land of birth,
to drift away on stormy sea.
I feel as though my soul has burned,
like the fires of hell burn free,
rising pressure, getting warmer,
a flaming urge inside of me.
I feel as though the wind is blowing,
through the leaves and through the trees,
I don’t hear the sound of urbans lands,
screaming, crying, sad cities.
I don’t expect to be accepted,
I don’t expect you to agree,
I am myself, my one and only,
I have my freedom, liberty.

Backstory – A feeling of not being accepted into society is something I feel myself. Arguably we all do, in some way. I would count myself lucky that I’m able to express my feelings though, most people don’t. I have a couple of other freedom based poems.


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