A call to arms, or Respect

We are dying for love,

mutual respect.

An acceptance of our minor faults

and differences.

Sameness and hatred are cunning killers.

You have to earn it. You have to prove it.

No, you don't!

Achievements mean nothing

without kindness.

We are born near perfect then,

horsewhipped into submission.

There are enough donkeys in this world.