My life's distortion brands me a rebel.
Falsely people give my actions' labels.
They murder my character like Abel.
Unjustly they choose what I represent.
If I ask for help, I'm incompetent.
One mistake and now I'm a malcontent.
Fallaciously they tag me as na´ve,
But my true persona they can't perceive.
They choose to pilfer my honor like thieves.
They don't uplift, they just point out my flaws.
They forget they're faulty by the same laws.
Self exclusion applies to their bylaws.
It says be a prisoner of hope in Corinthians,
But I think people are hoping that I'm Prufrockian.

By: Jean Gibson
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