Lady Bliss #1 – Poem

We rarely gawk at the strangers no more

Their appearance no longer interesting

Their complexion grown too sore

How do they live with such marks?

The villagers wondered

Such unending filth attached to their skin

At the streets yonder

Yet once the strangers were gone the villagers did not cheer

Hoping the strangers to return

Their own misfortune

They did not jeer