I wrote this poem in 2009 when I was working at a homeless veterans facility.
You are broken.
IYou are broken.
You have a disease.
Oh the shame you must feel, being in your skin.
Who will love you now?
Who will hold your hand?
You are unacceptable, being in your skin.
Who are you to talk to me?
Who are you to shake my hand?
You are broken!
Alone, being in your skin.
Are your symptoms human?
Who am I to trust you?
You wretched soul.
Go on, being in your skin.
Who are you to have dreams like me?
Why are you so separate?
Don’t look me in the eye.
Forgotten, being in your skin.
End the battle.
Find peace, being in your skin.
Who am I to offer anything?
Where is the common ground?
I am weeping for you.
I cannot show you.
Because:
I am broken.
I have a disease.
Oh, the shame I feel being in my skin.
Who will love me now?
Who will hold my hand?
I am unacceptable, in my skin.
Who am I to talk to you?
Who am I to shake your hand?
I am broken!
Alone, In my skin.
My symptoms are human.
Who are you to trust me?
I am a wretched soul.
Why am I so separate?
Look me in the eye.
Don’t forget me, in my skin
End the battle.
Find peace, in my skin.
How can You offer anything?
Where is our common ground?
You are weeping for me.
You cannot show me.
Because we are broken.
I wrote this poem in 200
I wrote this poem in 200
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