I Am A Needle in a Haystack

Ode to Misfits

I am a needle in a haystack
Buried deep inside
A mountain of dry grass
I cannot stretch or bend
as we are so tightly packed
Yes, I am a bit different
So, they call me the shiny chap

One day I woke up
With a tingle in my leg
and a jingle in my head
I started moving
without my will or control
What started as a slow swing
Quickly turned into rock ’n roll
There were a few odd looks
then whispers behind my back
But when I started spinning
And crashing right and left
The few murmurs grew
into a loud chorus
of an angry, judging crew
They said: —There are rules in our society 
You stay still and smile politely 
Look at all your brethren
Why can’t you be more like them?
I said: –I am sorry
But it’s involuntary
What moves me is this music
Don’t you guys really hear it?
They were both frustrated and sad
They whispered among themselves
–He was always the odd one out 
But he has finally gone mad
As they turned around and left
I was the society’s outcast

One sweet spring morning
As the barn woke up to the sun
They looked around but I was gone
There were a few fake tears
but mostly sighs of relief
They said, the crazy chap
Probably got what he deserved

Sadly, they could not feel 
the big drum magnet
that was hanging overhead
As it swung with the wind
It swept me right and left
Like a whirling dervish
Moving to the song of the reed

And one night, in the dark
It reached down, to pull me up
so I could live in its arms
with all sorts of shiny chaps

02/27/2020