No Second Glance
There I stood, barely nine
as he was taken in the light of day.
A prisoner of fate was I, given no sign,
to witness his limp body bruised lay,
yet as adult walked away from his shrine.
There I stood, steeling my stance
for the sake of my silence
as children mocked, giving no chance.
From solitude I drew my resilience
and gave no second glance.
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