What did I ever do to fill you with such rage,
That you would see me dead, my ink wiped from the page?
Can I not just live my life, without the fear of murder
Because of skin or faith or tongue? Or is it something further
Afield than these ideas, some unimagined sin,
Committed all unknowing, that raises all this din?
Please attend my friend, before you pull the trigger,
Let us embrace instead, not make the difference bigger!
I assure you friend, I bear you zero malice
Whether you reside in bayt or yurt or palace.