Branded Loser

One Woman's Quest

I feel like an underdeveloped,
socially awkward adolescent,
delegated to the sidelines,
measuring esteem against
athleticism of those who
made the grade – a failure.

I feel like in my ineptitude,
I have hosted a party, bent
on celebrating the prowess
of others – created the perfect
environ to appear the team
player – oozed congeniality.

I feel as if it’s free food
that attracts the guests,
and my malaise that repels,
esteem trampled beneath
the feet of hasty retreats,
and unappreciative takers.

I feel perpetually locked
in other-ness, an oddball
whose best efforts barely
penetrate the self-assured
wall of social acceptability,
self-branded an outcast.

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