Now and again he caught a glimpse of something not quite real,
A vision of things not open to all, but something he could also feel.
From a young age he knew he was different, but not in a way that was the best,
He never did fit in with the crowd, or go along with the rest.
A sensitive soul, emotions ran wild, but not externally for all to see,
Feelings transfered and compassion was offered but still he could not be.
Acceptance he wanted but never did gain, outcast as long as he would live,
A waste of a gift, god given he felt, to others he just wanted to give.
There was something more, on this earth he could see, but his efforts they just kept on failing,
Drained of his life, he gave up hope, his coffin lid they just kept on nailing.
© C Webber 2017