Ok, eating potato skin
Is evidently not acceptable
In high school.
And the kiwi skin,
Was the first and
Last time I would
Be a clown.
You would be pretty
If you wore make up.
Well, I hated everything
The it crowd stood for.
And with my skinny frame
And baby face I did
Not want extra attention.
So going home for
Lunch was a bit
Of a reprieve some days.
Or I may have done a Fred.
And leapt over tables
To batter someone.
But I did not want to be feared.
And its clear as day that
After leaving the group
I sat with for break
Time and lunch time
I entered some sort of
A depressive phase.
I remember sitting
Watching robot wars
And dragon ball z.
After my parents blind
Ignored my English teachers
Enthusiasm for my
Bright future in education,
I went through a
Massive existential crisis.
I never read a full book
For years and that may
Surprise some peope
Considering I was
Supposed to be intelligent.
I did the bare minimum.
If you do not try too hard
You won't feel so hurt
When it all goes t^ts up.
My family were all:
Prepare for the worst
You will find out
That in this life
Nothing is what
It is cracked up to be.
We are not lucky enough
To hope for the best.
The depression I got
From struggling with English,
Was transferred into sketching.
And then I grew jaded
With that once I
Listened to Pearl Jam.
Only sappy losers
Draw petty pictures.
Nothing came close
To my Johnny Depp
Sketch I did in second year.
My parents were out
A lot of the time so
I relished having sky tv.
I went out with
New friends but I
Felt like a third wheel.
And being "the brainy one"
In my new gang
Felt more like "the geeky one."
And when someone said
They told a stranger
They met on msn
That I was a little weird
When I did not speak
To him while they were
Away doing something,
I said that they could
Have waited until I
Was not at the table
Before saying that.
My friends did not
Even know how to
Pronounce my sport
Nevermind ask me
About it and how
I was doing. I was
Supposed to have gone
Off to university after school,
The world awaited.
Or I did a Jeremy
Like in the PearlJam song.
I sort of did.
Without a gun.
I went crazy.
I never got help
Because I did not
Know there was help
For my type of pain.
Nobody at school
Contributed to my breakdown.
I have fond memories
Of my school days.
And I did feel like
I was respected and
Those that knew I
Ended up on a psyche ward,
Probably did feel a
Bit sorry for me.
If anyone's to blame
It is closer to home.
A stupid embarrasing stunt.
Like the falling man
In Don Delillo.
I could live with that.