The Prejudice You Serve

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.