Listen to poem:
Just People
Who are these folks we call people?
For want of names drawn from hat
or drawn from lucky dip in remainder bin.
A set of folk not friend nor foe
but unknown masses anointed as anonymous.
Prescribed to be, what we want them, to be
just people, other people, strangers.
We can call them what we like.
We can say what we like about them
good or bad, happy or sad.
Our gumption in presumption
is patronising to people,
just people.
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