His face unknown

In his hood separated from the other children feeling unfit
Biting his nails as if his very life depended on it
Shaking every now and then from pop up past disgraces
You could see the suffering infant in his solemn face

In front of him were the kids who had conquered what was to be conquered
who were tasting the satisfaction of popularity, shouting in every encore
This hooded child was not a part of it, he sat listening to his mind mutter blight
This child must tolerate the endless trite speeches about people's rights

When none think his rights applicable
So their rotten jeers urged him to become invisible
when invisibility urged him to become solitary no one cared
Then loneliness deemed him worthless among his entitled peers

And those speeches go over his head about equality failing
because his voice is never heard and his feelings crushed daily
Who would lend a hand to that lad indeed, would you dare?
When speedily engineering the world to be fair,
yet only giant egos were freed as you left the bullied...
 meek kids out to bleed