Born missing an ear, he looks so queer,
with half an arm they hold so dear.
Stay away from here and don't ask why
he cries a tear from a hateful eye.
The victim of a doctor's pride,
the saviour called Thalidomide,
disfigured from the age of none,
a failure before her life's begun.
Her lack of limbs restricts her will
to k** the instigators of that pill.
Yet still you hide your attitudes
behind bouquets of platitudes.
Can you look her in the face without disgust?
Do you suspect a trace of slight mistrust?
You gave her a name to pretend she's the same;
oh isn't it a shame she's not to blame
for laughing at your sympathy
a discord in life's symphony.
The state pays out ten thousand pounds,
insuring damage on moral grounds.
The paper shines accusing signs,
the Sunday Times and medical crimes.
'What compensation can they give
to replace the life you cannot live?"
If you could look inside his mind
you'd cry from guilt at what you find.
But love it seems is hard to bear
for how can you say how little they care
when mothers and fathers, blind and bland,
love what they don't understand?
☰