Not Quite Inside

by C Cattaway   Nov 3, 2011


I wonder. Did you ever think this could be how it ends?
I wonder. Did you even think at all?
I'm watching. Waiting. Patiently I look across the stage,
Just waiting. Watching for the scene to fall.

I spent a life just making do, not quite within, nor out.
I tried to fit, but making myself be
Outside the walls I wanted to be held; embraced within,
Not really sure of what was family.

I'm curious, but still too weary, so I do not push.
I want to be. I want to feel. And still
I wait until invited in. I do not have a right
To take a place, and doubt I ever will.

But here, on the periphery, I see just how it is,
Yet to belong could, sometimes, still be better.
But I shall still be here far on in distance, and in time.
Always the hanging man, not quite the letter..

I cannot put myself into a place I do not fit.
A square peg in a round hole. Can't you see
That you want me to stand by you, and represent your presence.
But I have never even stood by me!

So I will look on, wishing I could be like all of them.
I'll wish my conscience allowed selfish ways,
Whilst knowing brazen, dominating me is not a choice.
It's my guilt. And it helps me through my days.

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