The Ugly Truth My Beauty

Slightest turn of the other cheek
one side acknowledges the other
in the midst of tragedy
And as we parade into a house of worship
wearing our Sunday best,
sirens blare in the distance
A police presence is felt
and it is comforting at times
Different from the tender touch
of a lovers hand leading the way
to a safer place of ease,
a safer place to breathe
Yet protection of faith and pride
have become the newest
of our human natural instinct;
autopilot kicking in as if innate
The strong protect
The weak are humbled
…and the Ugly Truth My Beauty is;
even those wearing a crown
embodiment of a hierarchy,
or those in a position of power
carry a gun protective shield,
can have a poisonous lethal bite
And as we submit to all we hold
with the highest of regard,
all the traditions passed
from one generation to the next
do not always stand the test of a truthful time
The flag can fly half-mast fluttering in a summer’s breeze,
and placating words may gently fall
from the lips of bigots and racists in disguise
without questionable intent
The local media will snap the money shot;
front page news and sales begin to rise
But, in the shadows waiting patiently
for the show to come to a close,
a slow ride down a dirt road,
no stars and no stripes,
no sense of humility or praise,
the seeds of hatred will continue to grow…

© 2016 TrilbyYates

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