The Outcast

narrative verse

The Outcast.

How strange it is to be outcast.
Viewed with contempt by all my kin,
I'll tell the story of my past
If you sit still then I'll begin

The youngest of my family
labelled as odd while still a child.
My habit was quite solitary,
Wile other youngsters would run wild.

I much preferred to read a book
or wander round the woodland ways.
I could spend hours by a brook
Beneath the bright moon's silver rays.

My mother said it was a phase
that as I grew I'd leave behind.
She said that I would take my place
amongst the forefront of my kind.

I had to play a double role
.Pretend I was the same as they.
That when I took my evening stroll
my only thought to hunt for prey.

I managed from them to conceal
The sight of blood caused me distress.
My inner thoughts dare not reveal
the problem that I must address.

I left my home to live alone.
Far from my friends and family.
This attitude was not unknown
and was accepted readily.

I stalk the fields at dead of night
I dare not venture forth by day.
When driven by my appetite
but in my case I choose my prey

To satisfy my raging thirst,
each night I take a different route.
My secret I must keep first
for none must see me eat beetroot.

If I am seen with my fangs red
while scarlet streams run down my chin.
I should become a thing of dread
to human beings not my kin.

My kin would treat me with disdain
and think that I had gone quite mad.
I won't drink warm blood again
and sometimes wish I never had.

I am a vegetarian
the first one of the vampire race.
My appetite's agrarian
this is the fact I have to face.

A blood sucker who can't stand blood,
a pacifist as well to boot
My futures prospects are not good.
Although I find I like beetroot.

To me its rich juice satisfies
my thirst without the need to kill.
Although it came as a surprise
to find that I can eat my fill.

Each evening when the moon is bright
Quite safe amongst the beetroot fields.
I some times ponder; wonder why
only the juice of beetroot yields.

The nourishment my body needs.
The other root crops I have tried
from fresh carrots to hearty Swedes.
Have left my thirst unsatisfied.

Am I a vampire even though
I don't drink blood but beetroot juice.
I try my hardest not to show
my kin the way of life I chose.

That I'm an out cast I regret.
I live alone reluctantly
but find my conscience will not let
me be as a vampire ought to be.

Revised
19-Jan-09

http:// blog.myspace.com/poetic piers

Reviews

[Ivor]

Ivor,

Had a good look around your work to try to find where your muse leads you. Too many to read at first hit, but I am sure in reading this that I can see the 'nature' of your directions. Love these story like nonsensequential, factional reckonings into thoughts, attitudes and deep meaningful analysis of ones character and conclusions!

That just means I enjoyed it....

I will try to post a piece that I feel may give you insight into another Ivor's rambling logic just to show that there may be a common delusionary theme within our shared survIVOR simalarities.

[Frank F. Atanacio]

wow a different take- I thought I read this one before guess not but bravo well done my friend :)