To Be Human Poem by Chris Sanderson

What of this manifestation, this mortal vessel,
That my soul, doth preside,
Should not, it carry this burden, this pain,
Inside,

Wouldst thou, so encumber, such weight,
Upon a beast,
Such low, soul destroying, gnawing pain,
Upon this heart, to feast,

No! Such ways, are not the ways, of kindly folk,
With an ounce, of dignity,
Would they not, within their hearts, give, of such a man,
A hint of sympathy,

I am not, evil, nor of cruel intent, nor harm,
Would I another,
I am, but human, a man of flesh and blood,
Like any other,

What heinous, deed, once done, have I,
This punishment, so deserve,
My heart, my soul, my very being, so wrought,
Devoid, of all reserve,

One hand, of friendship, one voice, of sweet succour,
Crave, doth I,
This, man, who no wrong, to others, ever intended,
Must now he, stand alone, and cry,