The Different Ones

I wrote this poem back when I was in high school at about 15 years old–so around 15 years ago now. I was a loner in high school, though I did have friends. I just hated following the crowds. As my parents say, “I walk to the beat of my own drum”. It is so very true. And I always will. I celebrate not following the crowds–not being one of the popular kids. Usually you have to live up to everyone’s expectations of being perfect if you’re a popular kid. I had my own expectations, and they were high, but they were aimed in a different direction. They were aimed at being the best that I could be.

The Different Ones:

Castaway on the lonely islands,

Rogue to all the regular people of the land,

Layabout—doing nothing,

Lonewolf off on my own,

Loner not following any way but my own,

We are the outcasts,

Outcast to everyone but our own kind.

 

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