Weakling

Glancing roughly,
I spot millions out on a mission.
Goals to complete.
Deadlines to meet.
All caught up in the daily hustle and bustle
Aah...So complicated!!!
I don’t get it.

Pushing the other downstream,
While you try and move up.
Selfish minds, dirty thoughts
Meaningless words, blank emotions.
I’m dumbfounded.

Now I’m no saint.
I’ve played my games too.
Been there, done that.
Been a spoilt brat.

But nevertheless, they don’t cease to amaze me.
I’m left, way behind.

One emptier than the other,
Nothingness, vacuum seems to be in.
Empty heads, illogical thoughts.
All that was formerly sane
Is now labeled insane.

I watch them…
As they trample on top of me.
Gives me some kind of strange gratification,
Just sitting there and bearing it all.
Bitter words and backbites.
As you sputter out your frustration,
In defending yourself.

You think I’m bizarre,
May be I am!

I just love doing what I do.
Sitting, thinking, scrutinizing
Watching your every move,
Predicting the supposedly unpredictable
While you stab me in the back…

You’re the weakling, not me!

-Celia