A poem
You know not my history
yet you would destroy me with no prior
proceedings.
My skin matches not your chosen shade,
so in the back streets of ignorance
you colour me grey.
I speak not the language of your birth,
but I too had a mother and father who
spoke only to me of understanding.
Never would I communicate to you
of war, yet kill me you would.
There is nothing within my DNA
that marks me not of human being.
Though in this, self chosen ignorance
you bring your own war to batter down
my innocent beliefs…
