Aberration

A loneliness has left me unfond

Of the wonders to behold

In this life, I seem not fit

Questions, but nobody can answer them

I am the key to no door

But am I a life worth living?

Could this be my own grave I am digging

By pointing out my oddity?

The matter in which I look at trees

And see somewhere their ecstasy

In taking the breath out of me

Some may look at me and laugh

Or wonder why I seem aloof

But I see what they don’t want me to see

I am their victim

So they can feel free

From the hate they carry

So, why should I have to bury

That which was born to me

By a mother sicker

Who only sang to me

Of gouls and goblins in the afternoon

And how they haunted her and hounded her

In the morning’s fogg-ed gloom?