Circus of the Freaks

We were a speculation for you to feast your greedy eyes on, for you to laugh and point at, even though the object of your mirth wasn't nearly as amused.

we were freaks.

we were lost souls 

on a caravan to nowhere.

selling thoughts for a penny

but there isn't a dime to spare

and we watched

as people paraded themselves

through our freak show,

pretending to be superior 

in the face of our circus. 

but they were strange too,

they just hadn't been caught yet.

time flies, they say,

but time stole its wings from us,

from the weirdos sitting on the sidelines,

crouching under bleachers and squinting at the cheerleaders,

aghast at the brightness of the sun.

we wrote serenades on the sides of crickets,

listening as they rubbed them off with music,

a tilting, lilting hum.

we wrote sonnets of love

to the guise of normality,

poetic verses

about how abnormal it is to fit in.

we breathed,

we lived,

we existed.

we existed as the freaks.

The End

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