The outcasts

Should the glass embedded in my heart

From harshness

And violence denied -

Or told the blame was mine -

Of dreams turned nightmares

Where, left for dead,

I could not undo the ropes that held me

To his bed -

These ropes that tentacle

From every person since

Could this glass serve

As admission price

To see someday through your eyes:

To stir me to affirm

And deep within me,

Compassion turn -