I Am the Lesser Man.

I am the lesser man. I travel west along the plain, as the great blazing sun whispers its reincarnant death theme in my ear, reddening the cartilage.

I am the lesser man. My legs burn as I run from the clamor. My body will punish me in the morning.

I am the lesser man. The betters use me as an example, disdaining my existence with detached decadence.

I am the lesser man. My clothes show it; my fuzzed cheeks reek it, my baggy eyes reveal it. I sag beneath the tired totem pole.

I am the lesser man. I feel it in my fiber; I tag it in the mirror.

I am the lesser man.

My flaws are displayed upon my face,
They disturb the better man's grace,
It is his peace that they debase,
Forced to consider the lesser man's case,
They kill his quiet, they burn his lace,
And all that's left is an awful disgrace.