THEY sat on their high horses
Watched as the ropes were placed
Around the necks of those
Who were different
Bound and gagged
Into silence
For speaking out
For wanting equality
For noticing the segragation among them
Betrayed by the hypocrites
Who profess God and goodness
Yet, stand in judgement
Denying that they, themselves
Will be judged accordingly
As the soap boxes are kicked aside
And the innocent, dangle
On the ropes of inuendo and persecution
Gasping for the breath of fresh air of expression
Suffocating with censure
Their eyes rolling
To the back of their heads
With disbelief, that such biggotry abounds
But we have not witnessed their death
We have not heard the last of their cries
For the good souls
Banned and chastised
Will rise up again
As the phoenix from the ashes
Until lynch mobs are no more
And all those are equal
Even in their differences
And THEY, who have ridden their high horses
Have fallen off
IN SHAME