Super Alien Life Poem by Ishmael Onserio

I am the super alien in front of the multitude,
Metered looks poking my eyes and heart alike,
I live like a frail moth, I thrive well in servitude,
I am used to these, it's my daily aiming life strike.
I am the forbidden rock, too worthless to be used,
In holding that corner of the treasured building,
I get what I truly deserve, my heart is bruised,
I'm not complaining at all, I call it soul-searching.
I am under supervision, all this is in pure order,
This is what I love doing, I can't count the years,
My hands have juggled in, I'm a care provider,
The problem is not that look over me I promise,
There is more than a plain looking eye can meet,
That intent picked from the lips smacked rigidly,
Just in my lone presence, I can confidently tell it,
Poised minds held high in readiness to judge awfully.
I've been a servant of truth with honors to perform,
Lawful excisions beneath the paining muscles to loosen,
Days' nagging pressure the elites have dubbed a norm,
My heart is hurt even more in that ample proclamation,
That can send the debilitated to the yawning cold tomb,
It's not a joke, adorning this coat needs more grace to walk,
And thrive in real life under the watch of those eyes of doom,
I accept, this is a super ‘alien life' featured greatly in that stalk.