Skin, a map of histories untold,
a spectrum painted, in stories old.
But eyes, they narrow, judge, and then they claim,
a difference forged, in prejudice's flame.
Words, like stones, they bruise and then they break,
a whispered slur, a promise they forsake.
Homes, once sanctuaries, turn to battlegrounds,
where fear takes root, and silence harshly sounds.
Dreams, once vibrant, fade to shades...
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