Ableism

What's that robed in gleaming emeralds rare, Among the so-called dark-hued junkets plain? So in blackest nooks glittering gems do glow, Where prejudice would like them labelled vain? Bravest arms that swift swords in virtue wave, Cry for the very plunder their rawest valor gave; Lying hands that didn't any valiant battles fight, Claim the loot and push its owners out of sight. Who is that warrior in harm's way yet unbent, In peril's fierce path still going fast and stout? See with what peerless conquest unparalleled, The fitting patriot fags foes with fearless rout? The country-loving martyr in clammy attires red, Misses the full liberty into which his bravery led. The country-hating bigot with faint fallacies bleak, Takes all glory and dubs him an undeserving freak. If Nature herself can't her succinct laws rewrite, Don't tell me that Black is not as good as White!