The Evil Personified

Personified evil I feel repulsed when he is near; I ought to have compassion for this cripple, his twisted foot and arm a beggar with scabby skin and eyes as black as looking into the dark side of the moon. This is not a person you can be nice to the more you give the more he hates you and wishes you an early death. His diversion is to follow funeral processions but no into the cemetery, no one wants him there. Why do I hate this person must be a background for me? Childhood, when I lived in fear of the undead. After the war in Norway, there was hunger in the land but I noticed at the gymnasium the children of the middle classes, who went to be the new suits a concrete box for trash, unopened parcels of food. I had to be quick in case the rats took it. A rat jumped up and tried to catch the food eyes shone of hatred hated me for being human. Like the cripple who dislikes humanity, who he blames for his perpetual hardship. This dirty little person was hated by his mother denying she gave birth to this satanic being I hate and fear him too, four black horses, where he is the only mourner.