Poem: Blind One

Blind one.
You can't see who
stands before your eyes.
You foolishly believe
you have a clue
as to who I am.

I laugh at your ignorance.
I awe at your ramblings
and the bigotry you feel free
to spew at me.

For I am that monster.
I am that which you hate.
I am that which you would kill.
I am that which you fear.

You don't even know enough
to know you despise me.
You don't recognize me.
You think me a sympathetic listener?
You think me a kindred?
Fool.

Could it change you to know the truth?
If you found
you loved a freak,
what would it unleash?
Understanding?
Violence?
An inner questioning?
A lesson learned --
to think before you speak?