The Leper Muse

Dressed in rags

Menaced by flies

Shunned by all

For her open sores

And terrifying stare

They say she’s immortal

And all pervading

Haunting her way around

From refuse heap

To sewers’ reek

Generations deep

Oft unseen

But for her stench

Presence overpowering

Essence unmistakable

Clinging to our minds

Clinging to our conscience

For her name is Truth.

Cheung-Ling Wong

Comments RSS Both comments and pings are currently closed.