The pain in which I bare leaves many to stare, they gaze upon my horrible self asking, what does this man offer?
This man does not offer fame, looks, or wealth. Oh how I wish for a new disguise to ease those constant staring eyes.
No not I
I still remain the same dreadful beast, the one who people love the least.
Comments are appreciated.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem