Oddity

Behind closed doors,

In the darkness-

He cries himself to sleep.

He tells himself that

He is not an oddity.

He looks around and

Sees them all refute.

He flays his spindly arms

In exasperation- and ends up

Breaking the mirror-

And in each fragmented piece

He looks at himself.

He looks for himself.

He seeks answers.

And once he is calm,

Ready, not quite, to face

Daylight again- He jots down

Another thing in his little head

That he would not tell anyone

Least of all, himself.

For is that not where

All struggles begin?