Tears of a tired man

How could I,
Knowing it is cold in hear,
Crisp white marks,
Sit upon my face,
I no longer bare a  familiar resemblance.

Look how they judge you.
Judged by how they saw you.
Through eyes that couldn't see them.

I could never bare,
my skin again.

Look how they judge self,
For being me.

I resemble what,
They fear,
Could they care to hear,
Reach out and touch,
Or at least,
Be touched.