When it dawns on me that you are other
That you do not see what I see nor hear what I hear
That in fact you see where I opt to be blind
And are comforted by sounds I find discordant
I pause and inwardly flinch
Hoping you do not discern my retreat.
If I could change our national discourse
The only ingredient I would add, perhaps, is respect.
I could then more easily recognize that
In order to move forward
I must allow for some portion, but not all, of your reality
Into my future so that you might relax.
The last thing I want is for you to live each day
Afraid of me, afraid of my worldview,
Afraid that I will force you, drag you kicking and screaming
To live with what you cannot accept
So that you arm yourself the next time you see me coming.
Yes, this is true.
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