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)