I am the product of unfulfilled ambition;
The spawn of unrealistic dreams.
The bastard child of fantasy outcomes;
The pretender to the throne of Hope.
I am the person I most despised
Before I became that person myself.
A type, a sub-class, a nobody.
A statistic on an obscure chart.
I am who I am, no more or less
No better or worse than many others
Who look and sound - and probably
feel as I do - I suspect.
I am obscure, odd, unusual:
Irrelevant, discomfiting, but real.
I am the mirror that is called society
And I am here to stay no matter what.