Its Not Always As It Seems

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!!