Wrong World (Poetry)

I wasn’t meant for this world — I guess
at birth I must have gone through
the wrong door — a quirk of fate —
I should have ended up
elsewhere — a better place
that must be why I don’t belong
here. Someone made a mistake.

For now I am a stranger in a cruel town —
I talk the lingo fluently enough
but I’m not heard
or too rarely understood
as if my words turn foreign
on their own.
I’d speak in tongues and prove it
if I could.

All is babble and long silences —
failed connections.
I can’t make sense of where I am
so leaving is the only option —
ironic in its way.

If I find death before
he comes to look for me
I’ll ask him for directions —
a route to follow blindly
if need be —
I want to get back home.