Pariah

Call me Pariah.
I have earned the name.

They would have killed me at birth
had they known then where I would go

I say what I will,
what I think,
what I see,

As I wander the outskirts and darkness of my former home

exiled

I am not welcome,
no place is set for me
no place is mine to sleep
unhindered

All this cement,
fields of grass
this grass and cement is worth more
empty and bare
than my life is worth.

I watch with my sight
through the bars,
prisoners eating

They eat well
compared to me

All the leavings and cast off foods
rot in their bins
locked
beyond my reach

I starve and grow stronger
I live
only to think

One day I will pay them
for the stones cast upon me

One day they will listen

In this wilderness of cement and steel and law
peacekeeper to clans I am not part of
I see Law that is lawless
Law that lies
Law that is different
for the rich and the poor

Seeing their cracked honor
I howl the rage that unrighteous persecution brings
bearing witness

I have earned the title Judge

As I have earned the dust
in my name



(this poem is still a WIP-
C. Taylor)