Incoherent rambling

A deer caught in headlights
Is how they describe me.
A fish washed up on land
Desperately trying to grow legs.
I know I’m coming last
In this race for survival
But I continue to turn away
From reality dancing in front of me.
I must have missed out
On some preliminary lecture
A guide on how to tackle
The big vicious world.
If this is a joke I must say,
It appears to be in poor taste
In fact it almost borders
On being outright rude.
I may appear to be young
But age is just a number
Mostly I’m a grouchy old woman
Cursing the laughing children.
I sit on my porch all day
Feeling guilty for the things not done
Then I breathe a sigh of relief
As night marks the end of my shift.
Every morning brings forth
A fresh new wave of dread
The monotony of life
Irks me beyond measure
Like almost every other fool
I had high hopes and aspirations
But they’ve all packed up and left
Just like everyone else.
Sometimes I can’t help but wonder
Will my bad luck plague me for life?
Or is it merely the result
Of that mirror I broke as a child.
If you perchance see me walking
You cannot possibly miss
The storm cloud that hangs above
Forever raining on my parade.
Cloudy with a chance of thunder
Perhaps even some hail.
The same forecast days on end.
I’ve considered moving, but haven’t
For reasons unknown.
Of course I know I’m not alone
Because that would brand me as special
So where are all the others?
Sad souls forever in hiding.
A little company never goes amiss
As long as I have solitude to return to.
So why don’t we get together
At a convenient timing and place
Drown our sorrows in ice-cream.