Why, then, am I alone?
	I stand as if in a corridor,
	Buffeted, jostled, ignored.
	I smile an inane, helpless smile
	To those who jar me as they pass.
	"Excuse me!" I say, humbly,
	When it is they who glare at me,
	As if it were I who moved
	Into their predetermined path.
	Alas, alas, alas.
	Brothers are we all,
	Each encased in ice so deep,
	So thick, no heat escapes
	Or penetrates save the burn
	Of chill and hate.
	I am slowly stoned to death
	By the bumps and jars
	Of those who voiceless pass.
	My body does not bruise,
	But my soul is blue with pain.


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