The Outcast

The Outcast

Her authentic spirit was misunderstood

Her unique beauty they overlooked

Bizarre and different she certainly was

A distinctive drape she rightfully wore

Her dress torn by insolent hands

Leaving her body exposed to the most vile intent

Forced into bland clothes 

Left outside in the dark and cold

The commanding tradition she had defied

So they stripped her of her rights

There is no worse blind than the one who does not want to see

They are just like any other freak 

Freed from their venomous air

She now breathes and flourishes instead

She is no longer the outcast

She is no longer their easy mark.