Skin

I am the complete absorption of light, the rays that scatter.
Covered in hues to which I am forced to defend, your disgust served to me on a platter.

A thin layer of tissue, I attempt to be tough, my skin has begun to tatter.

A factor of which you can’t amend, the voices of my ancestors clatter.

My speech is noticeably impeccable; I can participate in your banter and chatter.

My manner is poised to a fault; I can handle the swing of the batter.

My presence precedes me; I don’t need your flatter.

You can love me or hate me; and most choose the latter.

My mentality is complex and brilliant; yet my name you continue to splatter.

The shirt off my very back I offer; but my reputation you shatter.

My nature is not something taught; but you label me the mad hatter.

If you didn’t know me, would my life really matter?

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