There was once a stuttering freak,
who floundered at every syllable he tried to speak -
many people called him queer
so he lived in fear;
fell down at life's knees, fragile and weak.

Every cold winter's night he'd kneel and pray, wishing
for the freedom to walk the streets without being called gay -
judged by his clothing, odd stride and hair
swallowed up in a world that's disgustingly prejudice and unfair

Oh, why live in a world writhing with sin?
To be ridiculed by merciless ******* that just want your dreams to collapse, cave in -

shot with ***** looks from blackened eyes,
living with luxuries that some despise -
alcohol, drugs, morals becoming less and less
the human race spiralling out of control as we indulge in ***,

and so our stuttering hero spat in the face of strife,
alas in a cruel twist of fate, that person carried a knife -

with a swift punch to his head,
he was knocked to the floor and hacked at until dead -

seems that in our shattered world, not even courage wins;

sprawled upon a paving slab in his own blood

floating away from our sins...

AJ