Blinders
Published in
1 min readMay 17, 2017
Pity the foe
who inflicts woe
on those diff’rent
from his warped bent,
gi’en half a chance
— whose ignorance
would have imposed
on those opposed
to his own views;
who flexes thews
when all else fails
to make faith quail:
first, last resort
to which such sort
turn, at the fall
of old hats — walls
raised to keep out
truths which feared doubts
raise — raze, shear, sear
blinds they hold dear.
