The trouble is with people
They often live next door
They subsist, yes, live so differently,
Put rugs upon their floors.
They heat their rooms with fire
And their pools they fill with drink,
Then strut around so God Almighty
Encouraging morals to burn and sink.
Contradiction is their denial
A smokescreen to the rest
An apology to those they hurt
And to those who set the test.
Now, the haunted, hunted, hidden few,
Who dream of a fuller life,
Have won the race of human kind
And have beaten hate and strife.
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