The Bigot
Your words travel on the wind
Like a falling leaf in a storm
So cruel so unkind
So off the mark and misinformed
The sharpness of your tongue
The venom in them eyes
Words so cruel they stung
The hatred so poorly disguised
Was it the colour of my skin
The place of my birth
Or just your hatred within
That lessens my worth
Copyright © Stephen Pennell | Year Posted 2018
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