Being Normal

the Dread of normality

Being Normal

 

There is a chance you might not hear this.

I might not receive the immortal kiss.

Of  the chosen few.

What am I to do?

With my voice not be heard.

From the tall city buildings to the flat mundane suburbs.

Hope is in my grasp.

As I take my hand and begin to clasp.

My palms fill with air.

I open my hands and see nothing.

Is it my imagination or is there really nothing there?

Why do I clutch at empty dreams.

I am still a hopeful type it may seem.

Wishes are for those scared of rejection.

Who come to that four way intersection.

These people sit in the middle of the road.

Rambling about the common mans code.

The path is too high and the fall so long.

I grab the violins of pity and stroke a sad song.

Excuse are for people with long words and less action.

In my mind they gather no power, nor traction.

The climb may be high.

If I fall I just might die.

But you don’t fall you fly.

Because falling is not for the birds.

 

Reviews

[Camelotshadow]

I've heard your voice & it makes me soar high upon wings of forever.

[Trista]

I really adore this poem. Some of your lines, they're just incredible.

"I grab the violins of pity and stroke a sad song." wonderful.