Personal vicissitudes pronounced irrepressible self loathing

Ever since mine boyhood

I experienced abhorrence

toward yours truly,

an extremely introverted kid,

whose parents nor siblings

(one younger and older sister) could

not arouse him out of his emotional torpor

akin being on par with
Peter Peter pumpkin eater...

whereby he (meaning

author who wrote this poem)
kept himself isolated, quarantined, and xed out

within self made shell.

Me mum mollycoddled her only son

bathed him in maternal love

omnipotent motherliness

figuratively guillotined

(unwittingly) healthy maturation,

thus development sabotaged

courtesy figurative apron strings.

No matter his filial relationship woeful

(to thee woman who birthed him),

he registered sentimental value

regarding keepsakes bequeathed,

he still keeps cherished mementoes

redolent when she lived.

Call him a mama's happy go lucky boy

whose later ambivalent feelings

tarnished, undermined and vitiated

short lived tender loving care,

which brief vouchsafed cocooned wellbeing

regarding idyllic rapport between parents,

got staind, suppurated, sundered, sullied...

in later years by incrimination

against being gainfully unemployed.

February twenty eighth ninety sixty eight

marked a tectonic seismic shift as moving vans

transported our household freight

to (at that time) R(ural) D(elivery) 2,

Level Road Collegeville, Pennsylvania 19426,

a ramshackle (summer) mansion named Glen Elm

plus whittled down fraction

of original Hundred Acre plus wood.

Relocation with Lower Providence School District,
approximately half dozen mile distance

between former and latter home(s),

nevertheless psyche of mine

property of extremely introverted kid

severely hi-jacked.

Invisible to the naked eye
traumatization (courtesy

chastising and reproaching -

by fellow classmates
and later in life
birth parents and inlaws

dealt hefty figurative jab)

tremendously impacted yours truly
analogous to him moving bajillion miles away

compounded by his withdrawn demeanor

diagnosed when he reached middle adulthood
as schizoid personality disorder,

thus exhibiting obvious developmental delay

bullied courtesy nasty brutes,

who scapegoated and rejoiced

with hip hip hurray,

meanwhile I experienced

terrible psychological melee

escaping to safe confines of bedroom,

where I wanted to stay

for mine remaining years of life.

Retrospective review

now approaching my doddering old age

constituted more'n one cruel (cheap) trick

played on super tramping urchin,

who traipes across virtual global stage

ensnared within whorled webbed wide

spending his hard earned itty bitty wage
spinning one strand after another.