In My Corner

In My Corner

In yon corner sits someone I knew,

With bleached skin like others too.

Nothing much was known it was told,

About the figure sitting trembling and cold.

In other places different than his,

People toss stones, it is what it is.

But in his corner rustic and plain,

He mumbles to himself to keep himself sane.

He wanted to be like those who came near,

Those with family and friends held dear.

But since he was different from others,

In deeds, he sits languishing uncovered.

Slanderous comments by those who passed nearby,

Kept him from reaching out, kept him shy.

It would take a lifetime for him to understand,

That in his own corner he’d become his own man.