Fresh Eyes

Sometimes,
The prejudice of others
Lives only in my head.
I prepare for battles
Never to be fought,
I get ready to spar
With those whose thoughts
Do not align with how
And who I am.
I fight internally,
Eternally
A fight against the hatred
Of the world.
The things they say to me
Because I’ll never be
The way I should.
But these battles in my head
Should maybe, one day,
Be put to bed..
For in the world,
Lives kindness,
Arms unfurled.
The prejudice of others may be there,
But there,
With far more pomp and flare
Is love,
Acceptance,
Kindness.
The one who needs new eyes
With which to see,
It’s not them,
It’s me.