The Good LeperA Poem by C.R.TurnerA long, deep bath in self-pity. Enjoy.
I decided one day to do something good.
I remember it well, because that is the day I became diseased. Now here I am on that road to Jericho, not walking or lying, but creeping along the gutter. On a noble mission, with a kind heart a good soul and a rancid body. Outcast from normalcy, jettisoned from good company. Ostracised, lampooned, dumped. Accused of mental illness, paedophilia, lunacy. Hailed in contempt, treated as an idiot child, unclean. Isolated. My own personal outer space, Rapidly expanding around me lest my disease is catching. It seems the more I care the more rocks they hurl, The more damaged I become. The more I expose my inner feelings, the more they tear out my insides, raising my organs aloft in triumph. I wish somehow I could get some fair trial, to stand and offer my defence: "in the crime of caring, I am guilty your honour, and I would do it again and again!" the public gallery regaling in horror... Let them all hang me now, I say. For that is the only way they will stop me. Maybe I am a flawed, dirty Christ, and they know not what they do, but I only know I can't carry this cross alone.
© 2012 C.R.TurnerReviews
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2 Reviews Added on November 10, 2012 Last Updated on November 10, 2012 AuthorC.R.TurnerIrelandAboutI'm a professional €150k a year poet. I can go from nought to tingly in two stanzas or less! Yeah right!! Sorry to disappoint but I'm just a regular guy processing his dirty linen in public, v.. more..Writing
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