Being Primitive Poem by Isabella Emily

Indeed I stay asan odd man out
Whilst the entire cosmos transforms
You label me ossify, obsessive or mulish
Neolithic, antique or fossilized.

Truth is achy, mute and serene
Chiefly quashed beneath the luring tales
Lies are vile, yet seeking its charm
And praising its appeal are cherished ever.

Fact is naked, inept to bear
Annoys the heart, nettles the eyes
But mirage is spectacular and sheeny
That can never be touched as horizon.

Being modest is a fool's apparel
Worn by the one who forgot to live
Show off as wealthy, be a parasite
Crave for luxury, and so the new trends.

I am now stranded to make a choice
Inner strength prefers to be outdated
Let's pity this sinless soul
That always tries to smile away the worries.