To the Victimised

My head is so alive,
with the words that swirl
and wave and curl;
and I strive
to gather in me
some semblance of order
and control, and I border
on being free.

The slides are playing,
there are two girls,
their hand twirls
together, I'm saying
how cute,
but others will not see
and will disagree
and violently dispute.

I see the footballer
striking great,
but his fate
is tied to the caller,
how aweful,
because of his skin
and cos the other team win
it's so unlawful.

I see the bully;
Picking and punching,
their dinners munching,
they are not fully
appreciating how unique
each boy and girl are,
and it is far
from the humanity I seek.

The End

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