Don’t look at me
This twist of fate
A twist of face
Is what it is

Don’t stare
The mothers say
Usher their children
Through the door
To a normal life

Outside
There is sun
Warmth
Love
Acceptance
Individuality

Inside
There are whispers
Furtive glances
Murmured questions
Muffled laughter
Conformity in features

Outside
I am not welcome
I wear my mask
Wield my sword
Of silent indifference

Inside
I sit behind
A desk
My shield
And answer telephones