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SybilThorn — Stranger
Published: 2014-03-07 04:34:17 +0000 UTC; Views: 647; Favourites: 0; Downloads: 0
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I am reading you like a book.
I can see it in your eyes,
And in the way you don’t look at me,
In the way you talk to my companions like I'm not even there.
Pity.
You see my chair when you catch a glimpse.
You stare at my disability.
And then you look away,
Like you’re ashamed for me.
Pity.
Oh how horrible for that poor girl,
Having to deal with being disabled,
Having something wrong with her,
I know that’s what you’re thinking.
Pity.
You don’t shake my hand.
Are you afraid of catching my disease?
Or of hurting me?
Or do you just think me not worthy of that respect?
Pity.
When you see me, you see something to be pitied,
Not someone to get to know,
Not somebody with a brain and a life-force.
Just a chair.
Pity.
And I pity you,
That you may never know me,
That your close-minded ignorance is a barrier for you.
It really is such a
Pity.
