11/29/2020

The circus was in town
lighting storms too
unidentified flying sightings
all under a full moon

The night I was born
since then little is understood
why I won’t exhibit the signs
as I feel that I should

I’m so average, I worry
so lackluster and normal
I keep waiting for one day
To become something formal

A creature, an alien
a monster, a freak
yet none of these define me
still I beg for mystique

So, I’ll just keep waiting
for a sign or a signal
wishing I was extraordinary
instead of just a strange riddle.