Outcast

Esthalia

Unto my alter, offer me this bleeding heart....
Original poster
FOLKLORE MEMBER
Posting Speed
  1. One post per day
  2. 1-3 posts per week
  3. One post per week
  4. Slow As Molasses
Writing Levels
  1. Intermediate
  2. Adept
  3. Advanced
  4. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
  2. Female
  3. Nonbinary
  4. Transgender
  5. No Preferences
Genres
Fantasy, Romance, Mutant, Post Apoc
In this weeks challenge, we take the side of the black sheep, writing from the perspective of someone who simply cannot fit in.
This can be done from many different angles, but I chose the confused route. There are many reasons for someone to be an outcast, as well as emotions behind it, so let that creativity flow and let's see what we come up with!!
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Nowadays I find it hard
To simply talk
Simply walk
Simply carry on my day
With people caring so much
About how I look
How I talk
How I sign my name.
Why do we judge?
Why do we care?
What ever happened to different?
Unique
Where did all the people go?
All I see are clones
They are all out to judge.
You don't look like me
Talk like me.
Do like me.
You're strange.
You're wrong.
How cold.

 
[One Lands Trash]

Born into a land that hates me.
The people wish me only harm.
A rough among their diamonds.
A thorn in their 'flawless' sides.

They force me away.
Bagged and thrown about.
I am a curse to them.
I am one lands trash.

Thrown into a land that is curiouis.
The people wish to inquire.
A diamond among the rough.
A blossom upon their rose

They beg me closer.
Cared for and loved throughout.
I am a blessing to them.
I am another lands treasure.
 
"I am an outcast"
I had been shoved in a locker today
And really, that wasn't too bad
Mean acts were regular to me
Alas, what a blessed life I had
Not counting all of the harassment
Optimism is most surely the key
Upon walking up to my own room
The sweet face of my Mom questioned me
Calmly explaining, what happened today
"Aw sweetheart, could you make friends for me?"
Sighing I said, "I'm an outcast, Mom."
"There is nothing else I'll ever be."

Yea, I know, I'm so bad. I used the same rhyme ending sound twice within 6 rhymes, or 3 pairs. *laughs*Bad, bad, bad. Anyway, I felt like making a little story. A bit more story than theme, but, hey, I had fun. (If you want a more "to-theme one", I have another below.)
The Eyes of the Forgotten
I am forgotten and alone. I have no friends by my side.
My thoughts are kept to myself, in the shadows do I hide.
Once upon a merry time that feels so long ago
I played and had fun with friends that now I do not know
They all turned their backs to me once I was named 'uncool'.
But now I see it is they who acted like the fool.
They collapsed to petty things such as fame.
And in the process they forgot the sound of my name.
Look down the first letter of every line of "I am an outcast.
Random, extra, minuscule rhyme below.
People will always have standards that not everyone will meet.
But everyone deserves respect, even if they seem offbeat.
 
They say the coolest person in a classroom
is the person in the back of the class
the one shrouded in black
arms crossed
sometimes they have their headphones in their ears
other times not
they don't say anything
EVER!
Just sit in the back silently
oddly enough the teacher never picks them to talk
most of the time they go unnoticed
their peers
either hold silent respect for them
or fear them entirely
they are the ghosts of our lives
they are the outcasts
What do you think?

 
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Reactions: Raven
I watch you as you wear your frilly cloths.
I see you check make up in that compact.
I hear the click of heeled shoes as you walk,
and pride as you talk about designers.

You have the radio turned up too loud,
Rocking out to the latest rising star.
Sounds of your party echo down the block,
to which you neglected to invite me.

I see you giving me sidelong glances,
As if you disapprove of who I am,
Smirking, giving yourself the right to judge.
Believing you are so superior.

Yet here I stand in my crumpled up jeans.
I am comfortable in my own skin.
I can run in the shoes I have on now,
and fashion is not the end all be all.

I don't care about your favored new tunes,
There is no substance in them to speak of.
And your party doesn't interest me,
I think your friends are rude and obnoxious.

So when you ask why I am not like you,
I answer, "I am just being myself."
When you ask why I don't follow the crowd,
It's simply because I know who I am.

Your approval is not something I seek,
And of your opinion I could care less.
I won't chase after dreams that are not mine,
Just because you think I am supposed too.

You can keep your nose in your own business,
Walk away before opening your mouth.
Spare me your commentary on last night.
I don't care what you did without me there.

And frankly my dear, I don't give a damn
 
Worthless
Is a sharp word
But it is not foreign to me

Unwelcome
Is a sad word
But it is not foreign to me

Prejudice
Is a complicated word
But it is not foreign to me

Acceptance
Is a wonderful word
But it is foreign to me
 
Always Different​
I try so hard to fit in,​
Do what they do​
Say what they say.​
They see how hard I try​
And tear me apart.​
I can't be them because I am me.​
It's hard to feel​
It's hard to think.​
I find it hard to walk this road.​
Can't someone show me the way?​
They make me walk on coals​
Because I follow them.​
They know I want it.​
They feed off my desire.​
I want to be normal.​
I want to be them.​
I want to be a clone.​
And even then, I am always different.​
 
Probably not a very good poem, but I was inspired by the topic:

White Red. Bloodied Innocence.
Intertwining Strings. Nonsense.
Never-ceasing, mad chanting,
Veiled threats, hurtful ranting.

Stop! I can hear all you say,
I wish I could live your way,
I wish I was I was born with light,
I wish I was I was blessed with sight.

But you think I am deaf too.
Well then, witch, let me tell you,
In four days, you will just cease,
And for one, I will not grieve.

Because your heart is tainted,
And the walls will be painted
With the truth behind your lies,
While in the back, I just smile.
 
False Reality

Believing of a place that accepts anyone.
Where everyone doesn't go by looks or style,
no one stares down upon me with scrutiny.

Sadly, I know it's just a dream...
created by a wish of one that craves love, belonging, and acknowledgement.
One, that wakes to hatred and despair...
making skin deep scars, matching the one's created in the heart.
 
I sit here watching,
Always in the background,
Always silent,
Always listening.

Do you notice me?
No never,
Could you?
Maybe if you tried.
Do I care?
Not really,

I've never truly fit in.
Should I?
Possible,
Do I?
Not really.

I'm never called on,
nor asked to hang out,
I'm always alone,
Am I sad?
Sometimes.

Why am I like this?
Simple,
I'm the outcast.

I'm the one in the background,
the one who is never noticed,
the one who's always quiet.

The one who's different,
weird,
creepy,
strange,
and scary,
Why?
I don't know,
It's just always been this way.

(I probable could go on but I'll stop here)
 
Wallflower

A simple flower on the wall,
Not very pretty, lithe and tall.
Not the least bit popular at all,
Instilled with jealousy and gall.
Year after year, the flower palls,
Out of relevance it falls,
Simultaneously banal.
In dreams of popularity enthralled.