Color of My Heart
When young my world through rose tint glasses seen;
my life was grand and to all problems blind;
the world was never seen as byzantine;
no diff’rence ever known in all mankind.
But as I aged I started seeing hate
by some toward the people not the same.
Yet did the Lord not everyone create?
Then why do some their neighbors still defame?
Now sixty years have passed since younger days,
and still with hatred there are those obsessed
who still continue neighbors to dispraise;
my heart is colored sad within my chest.
The moans still heard as whispers in the wind;
will mankind ever let their rage rescind?
December 2, 2018
Copyright © John Gondolf | Year Posted 2018
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