The other children br played on the swings br as I hid for my life br They laughed and smiled br as my cheeks br were bathed in tears br As they sang their joy br I sobbed in my sorrow and pain br They were safe br yet were too innocent br to appreciate it br as I fought for survival br They knew only gentle love br from those responsible for them br as I cringed in terror br at the slightest touch br They were clean and well dressed br as bruises, blood and rags clothed me br They looked, laughed and pointed at me br mocking my suffering br I looked at them br envied and pitied them br for their lack of understanding br What was so different between them and I br that they should be cherished br and I should be reviled br br I was an outsider...