mine · poetry

Poem: Stranger

I’ve been so busy lately that all I have time to post are poems after poems. But I promise I’ll try to work on something a little more prosey or texty in general once my holiday begins (last day tomorrow, finally). Here’s another poem I wrote, however, when I was supposed to do something else. I won’t say more about it, it should be pretty clear what I mean with it. But you can all draw your own conclusions.


I’m a stranger near them;
a being in between,
not exactly foreign, but
of a different breed.

The looks they give me,
smiles. Half a word?
Yet I feel them talk about me
when my back is turned.

You hardly know; imagine,
no, I doubt you’d even care,
how very sad it makes me,
how lonely I get there.

Why judge a person
just because they’re shy?
Why not give a chance,
no, why not even try?

Or because they do well,
just tell me if it’s this?
Or something else about me,
is there something I have missed?

Have I done a thing unfair;
with words caused pain to you?
Cut you off, ignored you?
I wish I knew the truth.

I wrote another part, as well, but since the rhyme pattern doesn’t fit the rest, I don’t count it as being of the same poem. Here it is anyway, just because:

But worry not, my Dearest You,
no reason to stay sad or blue,
for the journey soon has reached an end
and we – we’ll never meet again.

And now, back to the fascinating world of irregular Italian verbs. Thank you.



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