I've been labeled, been tagged in a hurry.
Garments worn on me which were not flory.
yet none has cared to listen for my side.
Yet, have they not stripped me bare of all pride?
I've been sentenced by a cold mass jury.
They have at my back written my story.
Yet none else was there to see how it went.
Yet it's from none of them was my life rent.
This is the crux of a loner's worry.
He stumbles and there's none to say sorry.
To tell my tale, I mount me on soapbox.
Shedding the light on it, a million lux.
You might guess that it's scary and gory,
But no, yes no, you don't know my story.
Topic(s) of this poem: life
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.