His fight is hidden,
His badge is shame,
They have come to pick on him,
They know not his name.
Their cause uncertain, if any at all
Other than to humiliate,
To feel superior, to instigate, or to maul,
They have chosen their victims in a random act,
They hunt in stealthy packs,
And commit such cowardly attacks.
They feel satisfied with their carnage,
Their infliction of pain; it will
Take someone bigger to
Stop them at their game,
They are never really satisfied
After their crimes and the
Victims are the brave silent ones,
They have been wronged yet
They harbor no malice,
They are not themselves cruel being so maligned,
They can still love and still be kind.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem