(T. Beechey)

Sometimes,I sit in a crowded room

And overhead hangs a cloud of gloom

While everyone else laughs with joy

No one understands this boy

I searched for love,found only scorn

My quest for a rose found only a thorn

Am I a fool to make such demands?

This boy,no one understands

I'm only here just to amuse

At my own expense or to accuse

Of whatever fails or if I own

What another wants,then I'm alone

Alone in a world I cannot share

Sinking faster,deeper into despair

A mere shadow of who I formerly was

Understand this boy? No one does

Don't shed a tear,don't lend a hand

Those are my tracks within the sand

And,as winds commence,they'll fade for good...

This boy wasn't meant to be understood

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Misha B's picture

Hi again, Thomas.

I'm so happy to have found your poetry...beautiful, absolutely beautiful. Your talent shines.

This piece reminds me of earlier this year when I was thinking my familiar lament, "no-one understands me" and I received a very unexpected, but appreciated answer. It was this: "It is not important that you are understood but that you understand."

Keep on...


yellowspecks's picture

Love It! Great work. ~Rae