In those days you wore short skirts, and had lightened your hair.
You were a celebrity, the teenager who had a breakdown.
You decided you would go out anyway, though there were days when you hid, and wept.
There were those days, and you still have bad days.
Your skirts lengthened, but still they followed you,..
your very own paparazzi.
They pointed, and nudged and laughed, and only last year it happened again.
Arrogance,.. they think this can’t happen to them, when it can happen to anyone.
Laughing in the face of fate,.. they should not do that.
Neglect of the study of humankind,.. refusing to learn about their fellows.
Compassion,.. tossed aside, and with that their souls.
They do more harm to themselves.
Any gift you had to offer is dismissed.
They see you as empty, with nothing to offer, and you believe them.
Now you are older, and still they point you out,.. two weeks ago, in the cafe, and each time you feel ashamed.