With prejudice
You write me off
What right, my friend, have you?
To strike me down so quickly
Cannot you see
That I have fault
Like all my siblings here
Who live on the Earth as one
Do you have fault?
Perhaps you do
Then you are just like me
So imperfect and impure
But I wont ask
About your faults
What right, for that, have I?
I accept you as you are
And I stand tall
Despite your thoughts
And live in disregard
Of the prejudice you serve.