I can be seen a mile away,
But you will only see my curse.
A pale coat of armor,
With a firey crimson helm.
I can't trust anybody.
I am genetically inferior to all races,
Creed, and Brethren.
I am gawked at by babies and people who suddenly feel normal.
Comforted by sympathy, or a newly bolstered self-esteem,
They realize that at the very least in life, they will never have this curse.
I am a walking freakshow - too 'normal' for the circus.
Isolation is me.
It's all I've ever known.
It's all I'll ever see.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem