Not the Creators' Fave

I see it everywhere I look, and I know it's not about me.

Should I be relieved by that, or aggrieved? Which way is it s'pposed to be?

I don't consider myself a drama queen, tho I've been accused of that.

Solitude is desir'ble to me, keeping things under my hat.

I want to be included, though, when others are having fun!

Shunning my work, passing me by, leaves me feeling undone.

When I share what I have written, friends and students respond

as if I've revealed the latest scripture in which a new world dawned.

"Wonderful, wonderful!" they cry in amazement, like Lawrence Welk of old

though I am filled with doubts and questions of why they are so bold.

"What will Vocal's Creators think?" goes coursing through my brain.

and I know that they'll ignore me again, which fills me with emotional pain.

I'm not one of Vocal's Creators' favorites, no matter how hard I try.

My writing's too plain, too blunt and direct. Too political, religious, or dry.

A handful of writers condescend to encourage or compliment me on my tales

but most overlook what I have to say, surely thinking, "This guy's writing is much too stale."

But lest you think I'm complaining--I'm not! Just pointing out a fact--

That interest and taste in the eye of beholders are expressed with little tact.

My employ in a prison affects my condition and drives me to consider

How writing can help me cope with the anger and despair, to keep me from getting bitter.

I love my job, you see, I do. I teach the men to improve

their knowledge of academia and work, that from this place in life they can move.

Some are wise in the choices they make, using time and sentence to advantage.

Others remain in foolish ways, getting out with no more than a bandage

To the problems they faced when they arrived in this place, to which they'll likely return,

'Cause they paid no heed to the programs in their last bid, and they'll soon crash and burn.