The world and the blame game

The world thinks 

They know my all intentions

And they act like 

They are already having 

My progress anticipations 

And thus starts the world's blame game 

Every time this world gets to decide

Who's intelligent or worthy 

And who deserves to be shamed 

It gets a reason to blame me every time 

Firing up their questions like a gun 

Without giving me the answer time

Here begins the list of questions 

They ask me every time 

Maybe the one reading this 

May have better answers than mine 

Maybe they have more imaginative minds 

Than my overthinking thoughts

Which are filled in my mind 

Why didn't you enjoy social gatherings?

Are you sick of socializing

Why do you walk like a sick man 

Don't you get proper food 

You almost look like a skeleton

Why you are the only one 

Always getting easily irritated? 

Why do you behave like a bibliophile

Don't wanna enjoy your life? 

Then some ultimate professionals' elite 

Advise me to play physical games 

Which I hate the most 

Because no one has invited you  

And every player hates you 

For them

I am just like an approachable 

Search engine

Then comes in memory 

my old friend 

Who gave me crooked smiles

When in respect 

I steped 2 metres back 

And she thought

I was afraid of something

Or maybe I wasn't the 

Socialise kind 

Several things come

As answers in my mind 

Let's see if my answers 

Satisfy their minds 

I don't have social issues 

I am just an introvert

Always thinking about myself

Still following the moto

Of self-help

 

Still in the thoughts of

 The people close to me 

Who has always loved me 

I always get irritated 

Because I particularly know 

Nothing about behavioural discipline 

I just have read that in books 

That there is an important Human characteristic called discipline

And maybe hyperactive 

Is my adrenaline 

I am not a skeleton 

I reside in a different body 

Just like the Moon knight's case 

Still navigating the path 

In life's maze 

I don't fear her 

Or want to disrespect her 

I have just read somewhere 

Girls and women 

Feel unsafe 

When we boys 

Stand too close 

Breaking the safety barriers 

Of An Untrusted state 

As I answer these questions 

After a long time 

Breaking the chain of self captivity 

Taking together the genre 

Of poetry and prose 

I think 

This is going to be my worst-written poetry 

I ever wrote 

 Many of my readers may disappear 

Maybe boycotted and forgotten will be the pieces 

And I may be the lost and loved poet 

Who wrote poetry once 

And his craze is no more