Nice
 
 
Ah, she held me dear to her,
I was apart from those
She would look down upon with scorn.
And I wondered if she knew how hard
T'was for me to be this alone,
To be so different from those
She'd look down upon.
I did not this for her nor them,
The difference was my choice,
To set apart myself, ere the man
I am, become one of those
She'd look down upon.
And it warmed my heart to hear her say,
Tho' hard to be this way. Nice, she'd say,
Not like those.
 
 
 
-by Ahmed Samir