the reclusive bastard

He never seemed the type-
I could see it in his eyes,
Introverted with his hermit head always looking away.
The only gregarious streak he had-
his dense hair growing berserk. Lawless.
Lost in his thoughts, he mirrored no one.
Nothing reached him and his vacant eyes.
They called him a snob and
pointed accusing fingers his way
as he went, on his own, down the deserted alley of his own making.
The opportunity did arise eventually-
and when it did, he did screw me over.
Everyone jumped with glee and sang-
“I fucking knew it! He is a total bastard!”

The next day, he cut his hair short and fit right in
with the rest of them.


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