I have walked with my head held high.

Bitter days roll on, and I laugh at the sky.

Most despise me.

But they are blind, they do not see....

Who I am.

I am me.

I am myself alone.

As i fight it feels like I must atone,

For the way I am.

I am stubborn, and some say stupid.

But you a blind, to the real me.

You do not wish to see.

I have pain.

That makes up for my "loss of brain."

Sometimes in the end,

The cruelest people are your own friends.

I have honor, towards my fellow man.

But they don't acknowledge who I am.

I smile, saying I'm content with my home.

Every night I go home alone.

My sister thinks,

I don't mind if she drinks.

And the ghosts are all I have to keep me company.

There are many,

So I am never alone.

In my home.

So I fight.

To forget my nights.

Yet they are blind when it comes to me.

They don't see.

Who I am.

The dumb one.

Who I guess, they think is numb.

Though I smile, and make my dumb comments.

They don't know my torment.

I have honor, and believe in justice, and hope to be in the right.

Yet I'm always just out of the light.

They are strong,

And their lives are long.

My time is ending soon,

And though they call me a baboon,

And make there jests.

They'll one day recall me as the best.

Not at strength.

Not at wit.

Not at courage.

But as a friend.

Who will protect them to the end.

But for now, I'll sit.

Let them mock my wit.

And take comfort that they do care,

Though there words I can't bare.

And time rolls bye, and I fade.

Like the night does to the shade.

I laugh, sadly as they don't seem to notice.

that I'm old now, and Will be gone, and I'm sure they'll miss,

This incapable warrior, Who if lucky, The Lord will let me have a samsara,

Hopefully my friends will never forget Kuwabara.