Who would’ve guessed,

That the child who was teased,

For a face he didn’t choose,

Yet received lots of praise,

For a mind he didn’t create,

Would grow up to be,

A person we’d all hate.


If he wasn’t teased,

Nor just praised but nurtured,

Then maybe that child,

Would understand that life,

As painful as it is,

As strange as we find it,

As unpredictable as can be,

Is actually full of hope.

And love, and goodness,

And people who are kind,

Helpful and supportive.

Then maybe that child,

Would’ve turned out differently.

Maybe that child,

Is still inside him,

Maybe this man,

Can still be saved.


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