As I passed them, gazing in their hopeless eyes,
I understand why my father called them animals.
They lead hopeless lives, no salvation.
They look like rabid dogs, trying to scrape survival
from the dust for fear of a more terrifying task master
on the other side of life. It's tragic,
the inability of humans to understand each other.
A pale creature at the end of the line captured my eyes,
for she was different from the rest.
Her eyes were two dead stumps still bleeding their life away.
Her prime stole away from her, and chained her there.
This world indeed with ills unnatural is haunted.
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