The Good Leper

A 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.

Reviews

[oasisscott]

I can see what lies in the body of the poem but seriously, engaging intimately with someone else's partner 20 years younger is going to invite the comments which you have quite rightly earned. There is good in everyone but sometimes they lose touch. Your intervention, though initially was with good intent has scarred another persons feelings and the cross you made when you stepped over the line unfortunately you will now carry alone. Hopefully your writing will make you look deep within yourself and make you realise? Maybe out of this situation some good will prevail???

[John]

..And I think you're ready to publish!

[C.R.Turner]

Thank you so much!! :)