Who will take some care of me
When I’m thrown and blown
And need some cheering up
You my stranger, reading this,
Have you ever felt like me
To want to live alive so bad that I could die
I am here
Anyone can call when comes the heavy toll
I will rush
And try to dry their cries
But where is company for those so secretly solitary
When I need some hands on the very verge to bend
They all seem so busy and so lazy with joys and tears
I for one have to listen and mend, a mentor and tutor,
And there is no one who would call for free
The indifference, the distrust, the contempt
For me, who I am, what I am
My presence so disturbing
My appearance not to show
And so I hide
I choose to live at night, in the early morning,
To spare the others any scare from stares of me
They have made me ashamed of me
I who have learnt with still prayers the panic and pride to be you
No doubt I must apologise, son of the grandmother,
For the spitting that I spilled and spoiled your species’ name with
Killing you for extra death
Until nirvana has mercy
If I live older than you
Who will take some care of me
Like I did not for you