Despondency

I am as childish as the word is,
I am as naive as the term sounds,
I hear judgements passed round...
As though my childishness is a tinder for my annihilation....


People say, they know me well...
Yet they skim the surface,
Verbally jousting my sureness,
And making it appear as a perennial jest....


I cannot deviate from their perceiving,
For then they term me an outcast...
My deepest emotions, conflagrate in my heart...
The veneer of indifference, leaving a window naught open...


The world seems to have moved ahead,
Acquaintances and associations, scattered,
Friendships and relationships altered...
Yet, I am where I am...not by choice, but by chance...


I no not, how to change,
For if I ask, scepticism abounds...
I cannot be, because I am forced not to be...
Even though, in the recesses of my heart...I want to be.