With White Thread

This is a poem about feeling different to others and not fitting in.

You all have colour in your tapestry
But I will stitch using only white thread
With a needle of pure anonymity

I will sow a hole into your quilt
And you will not fault me
For I am one colour and that is all I shall ever be

A scream in the secluded realms of calm
Dormant while all else erupts
I was born and yet I claim not to be alive

Eyes fixed on the floor
Lost in internal vision
Stunned in disbelief as the world washes over me

A cavity in your mind
Hindering upon society
One true, disillusioned soul for the melting pot

Truthful to the cause I stay
Never in and yet not wholly out
A pause in the film, the stale image – that’s me