Predetermined Destiny

He was a damaged man,
they all spoke in whispers
sometimes loud enough for him to hear
that he was the forgotten one
she'd left him you see,
but you couldn't blame her,
not really—
just look at him,
they'd say,
could you blame her?
He was a damaged man,
a simple man
he could not add
could not dress
how could one expect a woman to stand by his side
what could he offer her?
He was a damaged man,
it wasn't his fault
not really
you only had to remember his mother
his father—
though many chose to forget that beast of a man
who used her like a punching bag
battered black and blue,
just
before
he
was
born—
ah, it all makes sense really,
he never had a chance
he was always a damaged man
it was his predetermined destiny
how was he ever to survive...