A Stranger I am in this World
A poem about the feeling of being a stranger in places and among people.
“A Stranger I am in this World” A stranger I am in this world, Walking through this world as a nomadic wanderer In a world that portrays a slogan of welcoming, Yet has a tinge of unwelcoming in its language, For as I stand before the world, I see it in its eyes: I see how it sees me in relation to itself. The world sees itself as a piece of land with hands, While I am a flopping fish struggling to breathe, Eyes on the water, body on the sand, Hook deep down in the darkness of my throat, Dark like outer space, dark like the world Where I float, a lone planet with no galaxy to call home, For the house with windows, the world with windows, Is not a home but a cage of four walls for a spider like me Who is suffocating within these walls like a sinner Trying to find God in a church amongst a congregation Of so-called saints who kick the sinner to the curb, Reflections of a world who self-proclaims its saintliness Yet does not stoop downwards to save a sinner like me, Who is a stray, wandering through the world Of alleyways and streets all leading to locked doors, The doors in the shapes of clusters of telepathic humans That I cannot probe, for I am an alien in a UFO, A ghost who, unseen by the eye, wanders, for I have No place to be a poltergeist in, no person to haunt, Not even a grave to call a home.
this feels so otherworldly but also so relatable—wandering through experiences to find something tangible and homely. again, a great piece from you.