Don’t look at me, yes, just like that,
I’m not a pesky little gnat
That you can swat and flick away
With scornful things your look can say.
Yes, I may have tattoos and rings
And sport a mohawk, of all things,
But still it stings a tad deep down
To constantly see people frown.
They look at me with fearful eyes
Or jump away in frank surprise,
Like I will somehow taint the air
By quietly just sitting there!
Like on a bus or on a train
And sometimes even on a plane,
Their nervous shuffle makes me cringe
And swings my patience on a hinge;
It makes me feel like being mean,
Just to act the way I’m seen.
I’m not a vicious, wicked troll,
I’m not the mud under your sole,
I’m just another human being…
But maybe that’s not what you’re seeing.
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Reowr 
you write so well!! 🙂
Buttering me up will only make me slippery…and tasty…mmm…butter…*drool*
hahahaha 🙂
Your poems please me. Rhythm and rhyme, in the same place at the same time. Ahh…
You have no idea how much that terrifies me…
Don’t be scared. It’s not like I know where you live and I’m on my way RIGHT NOW. Boo!
*Sets up weasel traps around house*
An excellent piece, especially the second to last rhyme. Well metered, as well.