Poem: lonely at school

I feel lonely.

Surrounded by my classmates, rows of desks placed close together.

Physically close but distant from each other.

I look around.

There’s the class clown, he couldn’t give a damn.

Casually leaning back and chewing gym, surrounded by his clam.

He doesn’t worry about exams – why should he?

What’s the f*cking point in learning about geometry?

I look around.

Everyone in their cliques.

The Asians, the quiet ones, the nerds, the cool ones.

But what group are you in, huh?

You got a couple of pals, the ones you spend most time with.

But it doesn’t look like they give much of a sh*t.

Before each lesson you play the same game…

Hmm, where should I sit? With this guy or that guy?

Does it make a difference?

I’ll still feel lonely no matter the distance

Between me and them, them and me.

Whether we’re talking or silent, I feel a boundary.

Does everyone else feel this way?

Or is it just me?

How am I supposed to ask questions like that,

Without them thinking I’m crazy?

Judging me, rolling eyes, looking down on me.

Seeing me as the brown kid who isn’t rowdy,

He does his work proudly.

He’s innocent, naive, non-threatening.

Not the type who electrifies on the sports field,

Or sets trends with what he wears?

And girls? Ha, don’t even go there.

This dude couldn’t talk to a girl if he tried,

He’s too scared. That’s the truth there.

He still looks thirteen.

Short, skinny, glasses, no facial hair,

He’s turning seventeen! I’m not joking.

He is me. I am he.

Way back at school I felt lonely.

I didn’t fit in anywhere, I didn’t feel deserving.

Had I looked a little closer,

Maybe I’d realise I wasn’t the only one hurting.

– – – – –

Written by,


aka: the awkward brown guy, and AB Guy

✏ Sunday, 18th March 2018 @ 3.32pm

👀 Read more of my poetry here.

Poem: a nice quiet Sunday

A nice quiet Sunday, just me and bro at home,

We both enjoy our downtime, sometimes we like to be alone.

Sundays are for reflecting,

Chilling out and introspecting,

Reflecting on the week behind,

Reflecting on the week ahead,

Reflecting on all the things going on inside your head.

Keeping some of those thoughts at bay,

Naming them when you need to do – so those thoughts don’t stay.

Some of those thoughts aren’t nice, you just want them to go away.

But facing them head-on helps make them go away.

For now at least. The mind is weird,

Things crop up from time-to-time,

One day you’ll feel downcast, the next you’ll be fine.

Just another Sunday, ticking away,

There’s something holy about it – last Sunday I prayed

At a church in the city,

Felt more at easy than I thought – some of the girls there were pretty.

Whoops – I shouldn’t be looking, should be praying instead,

Not thinking about which girl I wanna be taking out instead.

Hey, I’m only human, not committing a crime,

Though we all have our flaws, you have yours,

And I sure as hell have mine.

– – – – –

Written by,


aka: the awkward brown guy, and AB Guy

✏️ Sunday, 24th March 2018 @ 1.25pm

👀 Read more of my poetry here.