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“Paper Army”
He was disgusted
with himself
constantly letting
one side of
his mind
trick him
into thinking
he was normal,
that his thoughts
and desires
raced along
the same branch
of normality
as the vast
majority
of boring people
in this world,
he was always
working hard
to try and
fit in
to a crowd
he couldn’t stand
to be around
lured
into the belief
he was understood
and accepted
only to be
blindsided
when he commits
some crime of
social disorder
that causes the
Norms
to despise him
exiled from a
colony
he didn’t want
to belong too
but couldn’t
bare
being left out
of,
having to survive
on the fringes
of a dead
society
in a dreamless
state
waiting for them
to forget his
indiscretions
while he puts
together
a new outer
shell
covered in pictures
and posters
of how they
want him to
look
and be seen,
hating himself
as he tries
once more
to blend into
and be come
one of the
paper soldiers
in that long
connected
row
of cut out
copies
all traced
around
life’s original
coward
and then feeling
empty inside
because he wasn’t
standing in line
holding hands
with all the
other
equally
uninspiring
copies,
half of his
head
telling him
he needs to
be part of
this paper
army
to make his
life
stand for
something
and have
meaning
as the other
side
of his brain
laughs hysterically
at such a
foolish notion
while flicking
lit matches
at its parchment
fantasy
trying to burn
it down
to the ground
and turn it
into a wasteland
so no more
ridiculous
thoughts
of belonging
would ever
be able to
grow there
and cloud
his mind
again…
Tom Allen…10-11-2018…
He was disgusted
with himself
constantly letting
one side of
his mind
trick him
into thinking
he was normal,
that his thoughts
and desires
raced along
the same branch
of normality
as the vast
majority
of boring people
in this world,
he was always
working hard
to try and
fit in
to a crowd
he couldn’t stand
to be around
lured
into the belief
he was understood
and accepted
only to be
blindsided
when he commits
some crime of
social disorder
that causes the
Norms
to despise him
exiled from a
colony
he didn’t want
to belong too
but couldn’t
bare
being left out
of,
having to survive
on the fringes
of a dead
society
in a dreamless
state
waiting for them
to forget his
indiscretions
while he puts
together
a new outer
shell
covered in pictures
and posters
of how they
want him to
look
and be seen,
hating himself
as he tries
once more
to blend into
and be come
one of the
paper soldiers
in that long
connected
row
of cut out
copies
all traced
around
life’s original
coward
and then feeling
empty inside
because he wasn’t
standing in line
holding hands
with all the
other
equally
uninspiring
copies,
half of his
head
telling him
he needs to
be part of
this paper
army
to make his
life
stand for
something
and have
meaning
as the other
side
of his brain
laughs hysterically
at such a
foolish notion
while flicking
lit matches
at its parchment
fantasy
trying to burn
it down
to the ground
and turn it
into a wasteland
so no more
ridiculous
thoughts
of belonging
would ever
be able to
grow there
and cloud
his mind
again…
Tom Allen…10-11-2018…