The Little Horn Speaks Poem by Leonid Gonzalez

In a white room I stand
With the man in white
I see him talk but hold
My ears tight.

He steps towards me
Ungracefully, feet
Dragging and body
Jerking wildly

I turn to run and Feel
his hands drape Over me,
I freeze As his cold hand's
Hold me

I come face to face with
Him, 'now can you hear Me? '
he whispered gutturally

I see the pain in his words
As I see that no one loves
Him, but I know I can't
Feel sorry for what he brought
Upon himself through his
Vanity

His favorite sin