Some say I’m grotesque,
Some say I’m revolting,
When I come out of the house,
People are afraid of me,
I go into grocery stores,
The clerks scream and say,
“Take what you want! ”
I don’t want to be treated as a criminal,
I just want to be treated like a person,
They mistake me for a living Halloween creation,
Spit nasty words to make me fill really bad,
Where ever I go,
I’m treated like a beast,
Unlike a curse,
This is the real me,
Out of all the people whom I encountered,
A girl smiled,
She reached out to grabbed my hand,
She saw the inner me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem