Underground Writers Network Forum MISANTHROPE

MISANTHROPE
I will say,
I am an annoying plague for which favor is returned by the crashing waves.
The disease is spit up and removed to avoid contamination by the foreboding sea,
With this dismiss I am afresh upon the shore looking back to the ocean shaking clinched fist.
Upon examination I realize with a new found sense of uneasiness that I am once more free,
But, woe is me a cripple before humanity,
Unable to sit at the table or merely be stable in-weather, in-diver, nor in pleasure.
Here I am anew my friend at the end of my own rope, as I loop it tight with the intent to choke,
As my flesh crawls like the crabs before me upon the sand, idol hands beneath the grains with thoughts of burring my own remains,
So I may hide from down tilted eyes; that see the failures of my feeble attempts to just survive.

I know, yes I know!
That all I do is merely for show,
So allow the jester to amuse, with skin so thin that the wind will so easily bruise my hollow soul,
Another joke is told as deeper proceeds the hole.
I reflect, seeing they may in time accept me as one of their own,
But, the chance of being exposed as a mirror of failure chills me to the bone,
No choice but to stun in what I quickly become; a vile hermit lashing out with a desire to be left in solos,
Analytically, they snap back befuddled and amaze as I exit the shores of salvation into the dark distant offset cave,
To them I chime back at a looking shoulder “calm your worry some minds, all is fine, your world is just that; not mine.”
I swiftly disappear from all gaze, hiding in my new grave,
By the unknown sith