When we take a look
Around, some people will
Smile, others frown. Children
Gather around those people
They trust. And with a lack
Of confidence a man who is
Unwell can be swayed off course by
A rudeness or a simple
Perhaps there in every
Crowd is a cloaked figure, ready
And waiting to fire from their mouth
An obscenity like a traitor with a kiss on
The cheek “he’s not quite
right”! they say. Behind your back
They make faces.
It’s always expected,
But never quite understood the
Lengths some folk must go:
To prove they have no insight,
Or heart for those the world
Cannot change!

David Holloway (c) 2011

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