Long have I thought myself past
That timid and lying morality,
Self deluding and possessive
Of all futures and possible past.
The now shows that though I may be
Past such things, the owners are not,
Strains of prejudice making rules
For themselves, new ones for others.
“We are all one.” they say, loudly,
“Oh, but not those, they belong not.”;
With one hand all is well, beneath
The other lies an enduring hell.