A sonnet by one who identifies as an "other."

————

Like Frankenstein, I, too, am loathed to death;

I walk this earth devoid of friend and hearth,

devoid of joy from the time of my birth

and from the first draw of my infant's breath.

An outcast and a pariah among

the friended, I exist without the mirth

and bliss of those born of more ample worth,

esteem, and prize,—O would that I belong!

Still, I am loved of my dear family

and most scarce friends, my books, and by my God,

and my most oft-read, soothing Poetry.

These things I treasure, honor, and so laud

with gratitude and thanks abundantly,

and so am glad as a worm in blesséd sod.

By Ngoc Nguyen

From: United States