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By Tony DeLorger © 2014
That look of disdain, those glaring dark eyes,
my irreverence not tolerated, not an inch, despised,
I'm minding my own business, walking calmly and cool,
but the looks I am getting, such hatred for a fool.
It must be the monkey suit, all that hair and those lips,
I'm not acting the fool, just eating some chips,
so how can I attract such violent, dark thoughts,
quietly walking the streets, doing what I ought.
If the fool was on the inside they'd smile and nod hello,
I could be a rapist, an axe murderer and they wouldn't know,
but here I parade the fool on my skin,
and right away people just take it as sin.
Confusing the responses of strangers, wanting to tear me to strips,
if I was eating banana perhaps, not those chips,
it proves what's on the outside really matters,
more than reality, the truth, their delusions in tatters.
So I took off the head piece and smiled at passers by,
and responded with pleasantries knowing now I was inside,
so what does that mean, did they think the suit was real,
or was the human face placating them, now too much to deal.
I'll never understand why so many people can hate,
without even knowing what or who they berate,
lost in their judgements and grievous their harm,
in thoughts of negativity and love to disarm.