Two people sat at a table.
One was covered in darkness,
with horns and a tail.
He had an air of kindness,
of care and love.
The other was bright,
with a halo over his head
and eyes that spoke of fire,
of pain and torment.
They talked at length about their day.
How people would stare at them.
How though the eyes of those around them
would grow wide, it was differently for each.
They spoke about their friends.
How they cared for their friends.
How one had friends who cared for him,
and one saw no end to the selfishness of his.
They chatted about their lives.
How they both were struggling.
How one was going to try work through it,
and one was a victim of circumstance.
They went on about their image.
How they both saw themselves.
How one saw nothing,
and one wore a halo over his head.
They had a chat about pain.
How they felt about it.
How, one was the cause of his own,
and one felt he was undeserving.
Two people sat at a table for one.
They talked about several things.
While everyone looked at them,
wondering why I was talking to myself.
facelesspoetic 