Outsider (Poetry)

I’ve embraced the nameless cult of being different
I seek the outside edge — the furthest rim
remote and quiet — apart from the vast mass of minds
who must agree — coagulate and cling

It’s an individual style of ideology
articulating nothing but a sigh
a conscience that objects to mediocrity
when watching dull conformity march by

It’s a clan that cannot boast too many followers
a few singular eccentrics classed as lone
quite unreachable by all the usual methods — they’re
averse to living tethered to a phone

There is danger in a stance of stubborn otherness
in refusing to run with the brainless herd
and perhaps it’s pride that separates or possibly
suspicion of the trite official word

I exist without the drug of television or
those papers full of stories laced with lies
there’s more freedom in the cells of any prison than
true liberty beneath God-fearing skies

I don’t tick the little boxes in their questionnaire
termed alien because my mind’s my own
there are those of us who dream of revolution while
the prols just pay their membership and moan