Untitled Poem

by Ann (redwaller at msn.com)
Ok, I've got my e-mail up again, and I've got another poem. And it's about Tennyson; I was inspired a bit by Stacey's poem and her fanfic. But anywho.. Here it goes:

My hearing aids and my hoverchair,
their pointing fingers and burning stares,
my feelings mixed of loneliness and pride,
their provoking laughs they try to hide.

There are few that understand me,
few that even care,
those people do not know me,
they only think of what they see.

To them I am irregular,
a hollow empty shell,
to him I am one of his Irregulars,
full of feelings I will not tell.

They think I have no pride,
so they pick at me and torment me,
not caring what I feel inside.

I get the same response,
most every where I go,
most will never care,
most don't want to know.

I've been through hardships and strife,
just in this small bit of life,
if they care not to know
to them these feelings I will not show.

OK, that came with a spur of the moment kind of thought, but I like it. So if you would post it, I'd would be very obliged.
Ann Ann

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