All the happy campers are laughing, talking, remembering
the times they had together
in the time they have now.
Personalities and attitudes fitting like keys in locks
molded by families and fate, outlooks and experiences,
sharing a picnic of joy with open dishes to devour from
It is a picnic and not a soup kitchen,
closed off to the needy and starved
Who is missing from the picture?
I, the outcast
I'm not used to speaking about myself