Painting of a picture of a painting of a little boy

Drawing a picture with words

Help me!
I’ve been stuck here for years and years,
and weird strangers have come up to me
and “oohed” and “ahhed.”
I don’t know if they are mocking me
or admiring.
I feel like I’m some sort of lovely thing for people to gape at
with their wide eyes and changing fashions.
Perhaps I’m in the wrong place?
I’m a person—just like all of them,
I’m living life—just like they are.
Why, then, do they gaze at me
with such intensity that I want to
scream out at them,
“Why are you staring at me?”
I’ve stopped shouting, though,
because they never listen.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s