A Misfit Among Misfits - A Misfit Among Misfits

Sitting on the yellow line
One as it usually is
Couples to the left
Families to the right
A reflection in the middle
Playing the world’s smallest fiddle

Walking out always pondering
Wondering what my picture is
All puzzle pieces have their board
Or so I’ve been told
What would that be for me?
Is that something I’ll come to see?

The search for such left not much
Each attempt always came forced
Coerced to part from solitude
Oldest fiend and closest friend
Came along with me on the 6ix
Left me broke with much to fix

So I’m too jagged, too bent out of shape
Yet to complete some sort of whole
Leaving the hole inside to grow
But that is best not to show
One has to just go with the flow
It’ll all come together

In absence of groups
Misfits come together
Bearing the weather
Of whether to fit it in or not
But whether misfits work with each other
Bother with one another
Is a whole issue entire

Shutouts still shut out
Cast out each other
To cold streets to harden further
And fervor builds from rage
Of being isolated from the isolated
Isolation like that is damnation
Worst pain second to castration

It’s fine to be too weird for normal
Nebulous as that word may be
I see no reason for it lest it succeeds ab
Drab is better left out anyways
But to be too much outside for outsiders?
Who are they to be deciders?

To be kicked out to my room
Left under a cloud of gloom
To fume rather than to bloom
Better to shop for a tomb

Sometimes it’s because of comparisons
Leaving everyone to deploy garrisons
Firing out that their pain’s stronger
That they’ve suffered for longer
What does this accomplish?
This I heavily admonish

Other times it’s just by nature
So it is by nomenclature
Misfits are meant to not fit
It just seems to befit
But some seem to misfit far more
Abhorred more by those closer to their core

In this double rejection
Dejection is the direction
Taken from such disaffection
Self-affection only comes from recollection
To serve as best protection

It still can disappoint
To be at that point
I still hate it with passion
But that hate I fashion for better

I still have to be somewhere
I still have to care
I can’t just compare
I can’t whine about the unfair
I have to accept my odd flair
I know the title I must bear