We, the Misfits
We, the misfits
imperfects
throw aways
discarded
nappy headed dirty dolls
who get played with
then put into a box
for later
or sooner
whenever...
Never really good enough
you don't ask us questions
you don't really care.
You see us at a distance
just to keep us quiet
making sure not to piss us off
or we will surely tell.
We, the secrets
the hidden
Anne Franks
and dirty food bowls
kept under your beds
ready to be eaten
but only when you're ready.
We, the stupids
your risks
the chances you take
the mistakes you make
pretending
and lying
waiting and
dying
and nothing
nothing
nothing is given for free.
We, the space
in vacant halls
that you walk on
where love existed
another page
another time
in someone's past
that now is gone
and clocks still move
and days still pass
and you sleep
and you eat
and you breathe
while we wait
and we die
and we weep
We, the air
we are the night
we are the days
and time that flies
we are before
and we are now
forever there
forever gone
until you want
to play again
until then
until then
and so we wait
broken
lifeless
soulless
we, the misfits.
Copyright © 2013
Rosana Modugno
