This aura of newness can be stifling
being an unknown entity, knowing no one
the only exchanges between myself and those around me
are those tristful acknowledgements of unfamiliarity
How long will this cold isolation persist?
until all smiles and warmth are won?
until I become 'one of them' or they become in-tune with me?
is any of it even guaranteed?
I say, these grounds shake
they reject all that is unknown
and I say, these faces smile fake smiles
underneath the formalities lies
a shuddering nonchalance
Here new does not equate with rare
this revolving door of entry level exhibits is merciless
they peer in at me like tourists at an aquarium
and so I swim, in this terrarium
of printers and paper clips, staplers and white out
I swim on, swim on, and swim
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
You have given voice to a work situation that is truly vexing. And the situation itself does not provide a solution, rather it increases the problem. Because you're not on an even playing ground with the other employees, and to be honest they do NOT seem to be that concerned about making you welcome. It's as you sense all superficial, and that surface regard will soon vanish. But this job won't last forever and yet someone else will be where you are now. Imagine how that next person will be helped by reading your poem during her first weeks on the job. Your poem gives an overview which will calm her stress and shows how you used your imagination to rise above the downbeat atmosphere. Leave your poem in a drawer for this next person to find it and exclaim, WOW! THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT I'M FEELING!