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The Merely Different

Struggling from the beginning to blend in and belong;
but failing to achieve what others took for granted;
he watered his wounded pride with rejection’s bitter tears
until the myth of the Extraordinary wrapped its roots into his soul.

Taking on the stiff, starched cloak of the elite,
he spoke in obscure words known only to the few,
and hid behind the heavy mask of higher purpose;
openly sneering at the average, scoffing at their rituals,
demeaning their triumphs, refusing their well known joys.

And so it was, he never learned the simple truth,
that all that lives begins and ends the same,
and nothing that exists is ever, truly, Extraordinary.


2 Responses

  1. Whoa! Mr. Cynicism here I see. I like this but have to disagree with the conclusion a bit. I agree nothing about life is extraordinary in a generic sense, but in an individual sense, I think we are each extraordinary.

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