Prejudice

Cruel a fate this be
That tomorrow's man cannot be
Nothing as thin air is he
Regard for one as naught they say
Look South and North
Far and wide East and West
Torn inside are those troubled deep
Helpless to those as cruel
Yield not a strong
Steel rod he be
Willow is to bend
Wind is have no end
Soon morrow come
Free of this pain come soon
Breaks again and again they say
Proud looks remain is those troubled
No one else carries the shame
Others hate carries the blame
Sorrow will be their game

By Felicia McCaw