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Doors Left Ajar
When those in this nation, cling to a non-diverse attitudes,
hatred finds fertile ground to grow.
It whispers into the cracks of unity.
And becomes the persecutor,
circling us like shadows at dusk.
Too often, we let it linger,
We welcome it, invite it in—
an unwelcome guest.
Seated at the table of humanity.
And so, it festers.
Hatred feeds on our silence,
untold truth.
Strengthening through fear
creeping through the doors,
left Ajar.
Copyright ©
James Chapman
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