People are different in so many ways
That naming
them never would cease to amaze
And though
you could try ‘til the end of your days,
You’d never
be able to do it.
From what
they might wear to what they believe,
Their life
style choices and what they achieve,
The places
they live and ideas they conceive,
An outsider
couldn’t intuit.
Religions
(or lack of), political choices,
Silent and
inward or raising their voices,
How and for
what someone sulks or rejoices,
Each get
judged by the way people view it.
That, I guess,
is the rub, for when we don’t agree
With the
actions of others to any degree,
There’ll be
sadness or anger, for I guarantee
Most just
don’t even try to subdue it.
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