Too often I have rued, lamented,
the fact that I am so demented.
I wonder what the reasons are
that cause me to be so bizarre.
While other people act quite sane
I do strange things that are inane.
Against my plight I’ve raged and railed;
I’ve grieved, protested, shrieked and wailed.
I’ve searched for someone else to name
as culprit at whom I can aim
my wrath and righteous condemnation,
but to my shock and consternation
no one appears to take the blame
and critics sometime dare to claim
that it’s my fault I am so weird—
exactly what I most have feared!

Tom Greening

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