Society and the Misfit
You never really knew me, you never wanted to.
You let my imperfections completely fill your view.
You never knew the real me, the one that dwelt inside,
You never guessed my talents, nor dreams that were denied.
My being seemed to irk you, as if I were a cancer on the earth.
You tried hard to ignore me, resentful of my birth.
I will not try to tell you how deeply I could hurt.
When you so cruelly shunned me, and looks and words were curt.
You often made unkind remarks and treated me with scorn
And acted as if I could not hear nor feel your pricks of thorns.
Because I was so different you thought my existence wrong.
You never knew now oft I cried and wanted to belong.
You were not even civil; often cynical and rude,
And did not even try to hide your snobbish attitude.
You were never even friendly, had not the time to spare,
To ask my dreams or dislikes, because you didn’t care.
Knew not my sense of humor, that I loved to joke and tease;
Or that I ached for one kind word, a friendly act to ease.
I told God I would bear this flaw to help Him with His test
To watch how perfect ones like you would treat someone less blessed.
And knew when I came down to live, ‘tho life would have its pain
That I, too, was being tested, my station there to gain.
May B. Winkel ©2003