My  robe is tainted,
I have fallen in dirts of humiliation,
Hands of mockers pointed,
Their deceitful lips bursted
into laughter of derision.

Words from their lips taunting me
Like needles plunging into my skin
I asked, who am I to be?
It's nothingness, but a mocking sin.

My head hanged low, afraid to
look into their haughty eyes.
One glance from them, I will hate myself.

"Aha! aha!" They cackled as
if I played a role of a comedian.
I thought in my heart if
there was anyone
to save me from this inhabition
But all I saw was
Enemies of amiable, blanketing me
with a robe of humiliation.

They threw stones at me,
And said I am a misfit to this world.
These stones hurt, they hurt so much.
One hit my head, causing me to stagger,
blood sprinting into my brain,
when my head meets the hard floor.

I saw flashes of red,
It was the blood in my brain,
Blinding my sight.

Darkness enveloped me with shadows.
The shadow of mockers, and
of death hovered around me.

I'm an alien to this world,
I am alienated to the light
There was none too kind
to give me a hand.

Why am I not dead yet?