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Prejudice

What is the price to move on up
To the Room with a View
Overlooking a body of water,
Or a lodge where the river runs through?
Will a soul be sold to sit in a box above a field of play
To taste higher quality food,
Walk in better brands of shoes?
To access seats at the tables of power
Lie between silk sheets,
Take part in meetings with sheiks.
Climbers who scale the social strata
Some with work and ideas,
Others with leveraged beauty
Words of cleverness bending the right ears.
Is the hustle worth it?
Or is contentment with a simple life under encouraged?
Seek your passions!
Take what you can!
Grab the golden ring and hold on to all you have!
Those who become rich or who seek it’s pleasure, fall into the temptations of fear
Of falling back into places of non-existence in the courts of power filled men
Or being forced into the drudgery of frugal livings lowly din
Snares, snares like drums pound away in the mind
Drawing those beats and hearts away from the central principles of life.

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Where are my people
Among whom I feel at peace
Free to be fully myself
Understood implicitly
Belonging in their midst
Even in differences
Where are my people Oh God?
I have lived among many groups
I have observed the ways
Adapted and been outside circles impossible to go in more than a pace
It’s not only them saying “You are not from around here”,
“We don’t understand who you are”, ”
“You are not good enough, or you are too good, for us.”
To accept you authentically would mean
We would have to stop being struck down or stuck up.
It is the culture, the customs, the ideals, subtle and wide, that separate the human family from hearts bonding Divinely.
When can I rest among those of my kind?
In a world where some move and many stay
To be entrenched alone among old generations
I feel for the immigrant, the outsider, the foreigner in the midst
Who is never allowed to quite fit even if they join and serve and give
My people are Your people, yet,
There are still veils, layers and walls unable to be scaled
Is this Your way Oh God, part of Your plan
To make those left in the outer court long for heaven?
Show me where you are in this deportation, on the path of Gypsies and Pilgrims and those displaced
Show me where You are on this trail of tears, You who were outcast, despised and shut out by your peers