Are you one of them?  I know I am.

I can tell by the averted eyes, hesitant smiles, the lies. 


Lodged in their minds, if not their whispers.

Genuflecting, master shifters.


On a trail of broken promises, unspoken nemesis,

Of neglect and disrespect that goes with the nexus.


Occupied by them, downtrodden again.

In an attempt to stamp them out, remove all doubt.


Cast them out to be eaten, starved or beaten.

Until they know the score and come back no more.


Or are lost and long forgotten, putrid, rotten.

For all their ill gain gotten.


But they are them and we are us.

I can't see what's the fuss.


It's all a matter of perspective, being reflective.

I'd rather be one of them than us.


Copyright 2000 © Ronald W. Hull




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