They walk and stare and walk and stare
Like I am some alien, not meant to be there.
I ask for help, they smile and nod
And then they simply walk off.
Is it me I ask? Is it me?
Should this place me free
Of one so clearly of another breed?
No, surely not.
That can’t be right.

I ask again, I beg, I plead.
Yet one by one they ignore me
As if I were a rotten seed
Planted by a foreign hand.
It is me. It is me.
They want this place free
Of one so clearly of another breed.
Funny that.

I leave.
I return.
With warmth and smiles I am greeted.
Refinement it may lack
Without a doubt that’s a fact.
But at least it has its humanity intact.