There are those that lie in shadow,

Fearing all the world.

Their voices unheard

Their accusations absurd,

Or so they are often told.

Their pain may be silent,

Diamond tears on their skin.

Outcast and alone,

With hateful words thrown,

For an unknown, conjured sort of sin.

Too often their cries are silent

Until it’s too late.

Once they are gone,

Over their stories we fawn,

A lesson learned from the follies of hate.

Precious rubies so red

From torn pride and hope do fall

And those who wield the knife

Of the tease and strife

No longer stand so tall.

Their guilt shall be their prison

With a lock and key of heartache.

Holding regrets inside

For opening wounds that cried

Blood-red rubies that weren’t theirs to take.