I saw him staring into the face of someone he never knew
or had no interest in knowing. With his hard eyes he taunted
threatened, and with the tight line of his lips he refused communication.
The facts were there, but he chose to look
away.
The truth was within him, but he would not hear.
The small, still voice begged to be heard
the face of honesty and honor wished to be seen
but fear of what is within blinds those assuming they see all.
Is it already too late? Does hate reign?
Does choosing to separate and divide, looking the other way rather than at one’s self
doom all?
But who fears … but who fears.
j willis sanders 