Intruder

Am I asking for much, with a plea for acceptance?
Someone to show they care, they want to spend time with me?
Or am I doomed to always be the intruder, the one on the outside looking in?

Don’t tell me you haven’t seen me in some form.
The child on the sidelines, the old woman sitting on the curb.
The outcasts of today’s society, drifting from group to group.
Looking for, but never truly find the acceptance they desire.

We call ourselves drifters, and we rarely fit in.
Looking for impossible commitments, searching for impossible answers, lacking the ability to fit in.
Is it our fault that unalterable circumstances brought us to this point?
Is it our fault that we constantly feel alone, even when surrounded by people?

Why do people turn us away, shun our offers of friendship and destroy our hopes of acceptance?
Why are we avoided, our dreams crushed beneath the heel of a cold reality that won’t leave us alone?
Why does the cold constantly permeate our souls, leaving us without feelings of warmth and happiness?
I ask of you, look at the intruder and let them in.

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