Broken wing

On the ground

Hopeless efforts to crawl

Efforts to 'do this on my own'

To fly,to prove wrong

The 'I' not 'we' did it

I want..scratch that,

I need help

Mere steps and few moments from complete misery

Damn clock won't stop ticking

And the taste of victory is foreign

I want to stand

I need to stand

I won't hold up a sign 'Help me'

Arrogant sometimes when I see a helping hand

Pity pennies in my hand

Feel like such a burden

But when you see me on the ground

Overlook what I've done

Please help me stand

'Weirdo.'When we hear this word,someone comes to mind.Maybe that one friend you always wonder how you got close with,or that neighbour who seems to live in his small island of bizarre stuff;even that teacher living in a bubble,where perfection is the motto and on the bubble finally bursting releasing its occupants,finds it great a task to adapt to the evolving world.Admit it,there's that someone on your mind right now and you're thinking how long-lasting their uncanny way of life has lasted,never seeming to diminish;that it'd actually be weird if they didn't act that way.There's still someone else somewhere thinking of how peculiarity is your regular theme,your daily dose,the air you breathe.There's that one person you always leave bewildered at your strange demeanor.They can't fathom the contortions in your personality.To someone,you adorn a disturbingly indecent coat of awkward.To someone you're a weirdo.