DONE FEELING LIKE AN OUTCAST.
A shadow cast before the sun,
A sentence passed before the race is run.
It matters not the path you take,
Nor every gentle choice you make,
Nor all the quiet bridges built
To wash away a phantom guilt.
You pour your heart into the mold,
Yet find the hands of others cold.
Do it right, and you are wrong;
Sing a soft or soaring song,
Still you stand outside the gate,
The target of a nameless hate.
No matter how you bend or bow,
Or try to change the \"then\" and \"now,\"
The verdict was decided first:
To them, your very best is worst.
An outcast in an crowded room,
Forever bound to silent doom,
Where nothing done and nothing said
Can lift the heavy stone they spread.