In this poem, we see a paranoid Tyrion Lannister who remembers the pains he had to borne.
The Wounded Dwarf
Oh! I have always been a man to laugh upon;
A man whose house got mocked upon due to his imperfections;
A person who is never summoned and called upon;
Someone who has always been called names due to which he is burdened under shame;
An Imp, Half-man, Dwarf and sometimes the devil who murdered his mother and what not.
I don’t know why they measure me with respect to my physical stature;
I don’t know why they mock me for having so much wine and be intoxicated;
After all why should I be in my senses? To take their hate,
This has made me lose interest in Reality and hence I remain content in my own fantasy.
But they forget that I am a Lannister and now it’s my turn…
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