Sometimes you do things and you’re judged,
And not always as justly as you’d hope.
Prejudices abound, and only because you
Think in ways they cannot comprehend,
Dressing and behaving in line with the cocktail
That is your history, your biology, your environment.
Who can say what’s right or wrong?
Certainly not they — they who proclaim that your behaviour
Leaves much to be desired; they who have no idea
What you went through, or go through,
Or will be going through.
It isn’t fair, I know.
Prejudiced bastards wonder why you
Do the things you do, and did the things you did,
Just like I’m here wondering why they have to be
Such idiots about it: let me judge them for you.
But I realise one thing — that they’re humans too.
They make mistakes, like they did about you;
I’m just hoping that they, too, realise that you’re
Human. And that’s all we can try to be.
Throw the stereotypes out the window,
Learn to see how we are all but the same —
Flesh and blood of our past; our present; our future.
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