You and I are similar
Yet, there exists a chasm.
One of colour,
One of tribe
One of status.
Sadly, you and I know this.
But we sit on our high horses
Or so we think.
We forget that the day shall come
When we shall be beckoned
We forget that each day we breathe
Draws us closer to our last day…
Therefore think, and be grateful
Love and let love lead.
Remove the log sitting in your eyes
For only then,
Shall you see
That we are similar…

(c) Chukwudi I