Epitome Social Enemy Poem by Isaak DeMaio

It's sick when you know,
that you are out on your own,
and you have been left all alone,
to suffer the cold,
and when it rains,
then it pours,
it lightenings and thunders,
and strikes you the idea,
that your self esteem was-
a lie and you never did know,
quite who you are to be,
but that's when you wake up,
drunk in a car trunk with no-
clothes on and gasping,
for air while everyone stares,
like your a loner and the one,
that no one wants to be,
because what they see is different,
and they wouldn't know what it's like to be me.