It’s unease caused by, (what I believe)
To be a target placed on my back,
(Therefore not visible to me of course)
Pinned there bitterly by my rat faced nemesis
And his po faced beau,
When his mood was cold and black.
So he could see that it was me.
And then where I would be,
(I’d already thought it paranoid
And that made me annoyed,
Now questioning my own sanity
Because of a soulless rat.
Nope, they were cats
Scratching at their prize,
They didn’t have a life before,
They think they have one now.
It lit up the dark, the target, moi,
Like neon lights,
(A metaphor, of course)
And they watched me come
And watched me go,
Yellow spittle
Dripping on their green chins.
They knew when I was inside
And knew when outside too
They knew when I was going,
And when I would be back,
Their vision of their future
Now tangible, they could see,
They would hang on every word
Which should have been flattering to me.
But I pulled the velcro from my back,
Now not knowing where I was,
They stamped their feet and screamed aloud
Wallowing in their loss.
The narcissists could only guess
What my next “big step” would be
(As did I)
Their envy tearing them apart
Their creative thoughts in shreds.
Of their imitating and wanting to be
What they thought was me
The fallacy would dry up fast
When they threw away their key,
(That would have unlocked
Imagination),
But alas,
Too late.
Can’t latch on to me, so sad,
Your life is yours to make
And if you thought I’d take you there,
You’ll be shocked when you awake.
Categories: Blog, Creative writing, Poem, Poetry, uncategorised
A Different Country 
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