The Freak Show (5)

What's worse,
Than a crow,
And curse,
From the Freak Show?

The rejection,
From it's collection,
Of imperfection,
And infection.

The lone savage,
Ignored by it's own.
It's mind torn,
And in ravage.

So in the corner it sits,
Starved of attention,
Even a Freak,
Needs mention.

The others plot,
Treason against the show.
While it's not,
Given a thought.

It wants attraction,
So it may feel,
And know satisfaction,
Of someone's appeal.

What's worse,
Than a crow,
And curse,
From the Freak Show?

It's nothing from,
The passers by.
Not one will come,
Nor wave goodbye.

Not a stare,
Glare,
Flare,
Or despair.

For this beast,
Less freak,
Or at least,
Less unique.

So in the corner,
The stray foreigner,
Bows to loneliness,
Spiraling into it.

Alone in the dark,
Crimson heart,
Felt the bark,
Of emptiness.

What's worse,
Than a crow,
And curse,
From the Freak Show?

Death
Of
A Lonely
Bystander,

To the world's curse,
And it's loud crow,
From nothing worse,
Than the Freak Show.