And

And then there is he
who whispers and walks
like the ghost from the shadows.

And then there is he
who cries and moans
like the tortured lover left behind.

And then there is he
who scratches and hits
the polish of his new coffin.

And are we the ones
who should offer pity
and sweet candy to him?

And are we to care
for all the hurt and pain
that is not our own?

And are we to hold him
when he trembles and
finally takes his last gasp?

And what are you to do
when you see all that
blood on your hands as well?

And what are you to think
when you see the others
look at you with so much disdain?

And what are you to say
when asked why you hated him
with all that is your soul?