Beneath The Cover

Judging you by what you wear

or by the car you drive

the words forever hollow

whose bees have left the hive

Taking stock while looking back

through scarlet colored glass

the vision false, the judgment worse

its memory to outlast

Forming all opinion

by what is wrapped or clad

deception in the present sense  

the view less good than bad

Stepping back while looking in

my eyes take off their shield

to see much deeper than before

—my prejudice to yield

(The New Room: March, 2021)