Benighted

The abnormal?
We spit at and judge as a dunce
We treat him like clay,
Trying to shape him
But he hardens when meeting with the air
And we can no longer mold him
So we throw him
We crack him
And he finds his shards
And rebuilds them
Alone.

The abnormal?
We throw darts at
But—
We are the aliens
For we wake up
And salute
And go to bed after prayers
We wake up
And salute
And go to bed after prayers
We wake up
And salute..
And go to…

And so we are the dunces
Jaded—
Frozen with envy in our palms.





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