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Could it be
those who censure know not consequences grim
who deem perfection above character distinct
is but prisoner of their desire, foible and whim
Could it be
that hatred’s birthed of ignorance, sciolism and ire
who feel individuality is but threat flung by rebels
no senses won’t adhere those who twist and fib
Couldn’t it be
that love and forbearing govern as sovereign state
credence in turn exceeds scruple, qualm and doubt
upon sensing thrum of stars, strip onus from heart

 

Photo credits:Purple Walls

Posted on Midweek Motif @ Poets United 

Posted on Open Link Night @ dVerse Pub

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