The world has not been
kind to her kind.
Tormented by her mind,
peace she can not find.

History bears witness
to her mental stain.
Told that her skin is a disease,
she scrubs away the pain.

Wounded and forever alone
in this desert terrain.
Hope floods her thoughts
like summer rain.

The red of her blood seeps through her scars,
liquid consolation caressing her skin.

She is human,isn't that enough?