Scapegoat

Scapegoat

They point with hands so clean and white,

While shadows bloom beneath their sight.

A whisper twisted into blame,

They cast me in the hall of shame.

I wore their guilt upon my skin,

A cloak of lies they wrapped me in.

Each stone they threw, a silent plea,

"Let it be you, instead of me."

They built their peace upon my pain,

A throne atop the acid rain.

Their sins denied, my truth revoked,

In silence loud, I nearly choked.

But fires forge the strongest steel,

And wounds will harden what they feel.

Though branded wrong for what they wrote,

I rise—their chosen scapegoat.