Most days, I feel like I don't belong.
I'm a small piece of wood adrift upon a lake,
With no destination in mind.
I can see the fish swim beneath the surface,
But then I'm left behind.
With no fins, or arms, one cannot swim,
Or stay near any school.
It's not like I strive to fit in,
I only make myself a fool.
Floating along, I slowly degrade,
But am made into a home.
Being warm and open, until I'm broken,
Then they abandon me, and I'm alone.
When the last piece of my rotting body,
Rests atop the sand.
There will be no wails, or anguished scales,
They will simply understand.
That I was dead,
Long before I started floating.
Left abandoned upon the land.