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A ‘saint’ white untainted
She stares at the rest... mere mortals 
From her seat on the mountain called
PREJUDICE.
There is ice in her eyes
She needs no words to say she disapproves 
The queen of ‘righteousness’
From the mountain she looks on 
The sinners strive and struggle 
Toil and cry and pray. She smirks.

She is holy, clean and spotless
Her hands won’t be dirtied 
But again why would they?
Where would they?
They reach out to her... help us
Her ice eyes glitter not with fear but disdain 
How dare they try to touch her with their filth? 
“Queen of righteousness.”

They toil and labor they fall in packs 
They lift each other up, they cry and laugh 
They fight, make mistakes and forgive
Each day is a treasure they glow from within.

They sweat and cry, but hold on 
The ‘saint’ watches and judges 
Never once does she smile.
They are dirty but they clean up good
And their hearts are happy and their souls healthy. 
Their steps are light and their lives are full.

The saint seems clean 
Her gowns are clean not a smear 
But her heart is heavy and dark
Her soul withers and grows dull 
It’s malnutritioned but she doesn’t see
She thinks to heaven she be heading 
And me I can’t help but wonder!!

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