Confessions of a Misfit

Silence is not painful, but music to my ears,

Loneliness is not dejecting, but a companion most dear.

Of the many colored threads from which the social drape is knit,

I am the faint line at the border, I am a misfit…

The solitary bard I am now, once I too was a wolf in a pack.

Base joys tempted me, any path my “friends” chose seemed the right track.

But the desire to please everyone, began to take its toll,

To be a part of them, I lost my identity as a whole…

The love I harbor for literature now was once directed to a girl.

The apple of my eyes, I kept her close, as if she was an exquisite pearl.

Passion always transforms a man, and so did love, greatest of them all.

The relationship molded me to a slave who answered her every call…

Terrified as I was of reclusivity, I suffered along in shame.

“Love” and “Friendship” robbed me of myself, sparing nothing but my name.

I always knew how to laugh at myself, but I too had my human bounds.

And so realization struck me – I am not to be dallied with and then tossed around…

With realization came strength, and with strength my fears obviated.

Breaking ties with those leeches, through introspection I had my former self reinstated.

A beautiful world I found in my books, and many of them inspired my works.

Thus I moved away from the cacophony of society’s expectations, which always irk…

Nevertheless I am not antisocial, as today everyone needs to keep up appearances.

I do share nods and smiles with people around, and keep in touch with acquaintances.

I am neither averse to friendship or love, nor to be a part of the social order.

I am just waiting for the right person, someone to appreciate the fine weave at the border…