I huddle in the corner
Swathed in cloth
Stench woven through
The fabric
My feet are bare
My toenails rotten
I cry
Tears of the very people
Who ignore
My tortured sounds

Soul after soul
Passes by
Without a glance
So eager to continue on
With their lives
They forgot me
They forgot

I begin to laugh
They back away
They think I am not sane

I am not sane
I am sanity itself
I am not poor
I am poverty itself

They scoff at my clothes
My scarred face
They gave me this face
They wove these clothes
The blood I ooze
Is their mistakes
The dirt I sit in
Their lapses in judgment

They assume I have
No moral code
I have no moral code
I am morality itself
They think I do not belong
In society
I do not belong in society
I am society itself

I am not human
I am humanity itself
I sit in the corner and rot
They pass me by
But they have created me