Look me in the eye and see who I really am
Not just this thin veneer of soft-spoken civility
but also the raging storms of apathy and regret.
See in me the scars of the whips of time.
I carry the burden of my ill-fated choices,
blotches of levity in this acrid fog of war.
I do not conform to your wisdom, nor your experience.
Striding my own path, clawing at gravel to make footholds.
You cannot walk my path. Nor can you help me.
Tiresome and weary. I march on distilled spite.
To rip and shred and break and curse yet never yield.
Witness the birth of a monster carving destiny.
I rage. I fester. I smile at the world outside.
There is a demon in the shape of a man.
There is a child in the shape of a demon.
Look me in the eye, scab! And tell me what you see.
A happy man? A cursed soul? A threat? Or maybe a victim?
If you had been more compassionate, you'd see the child.
