Who are you
judging him?
stringing him up
with your words,
actions and emotions.

Thought him queer,
thought him strange,
thought him annoying.

You heard it through the grape vine,
twisting and turning,
leading to the wrong grape:

a big fat juicy one
readily imploding with lies;
it was nothing like the small
tidbit of judgment
that it should have been.

It wrapped a noose over his head,
since you judged him falsely.
The tan ropes
made red abrasions
round his neck.

You stole the strength
that made him withstand everything.
You kicked the chair.

CRACK!
CRASH!
SPLAT!

His eyes bulged,
as the small red veins
popped from their positions,
to the point
that they almost connected.

His tongue slowly slipped
from his lips.
His head lolled to the side.


She still wants to judge,
and keep you away
after you scared her.

She judged based on race.
She judged based on stereotypes.

Heard you shot a girl.
Heard you got into jail
the night that you encountered.

It could’ve been
her red, hot blood
flowing down the pavement,
sticking to the small ridges
in the cement and
wetting the sand.

It could’ve been
her eyes bulging with final breaths,
the lids closing, her skin going placid.

She would’ve had
a cool disposition
with the bullet hole
piercing her chest.

She would’ve had no choice,
but to lay and die.

Instead,
she followed her instinct.
She followed her gut.
It led her away from you:
to the confines of her house,
to the safety of her bed.



I missed out.
I thought you
would rip me apart without a care.
Pretentious.
Mean.
Condescending.
I should have known you
before I judged.
A-S-S-U-M-E.
The only thing
That I should’ve assumed
was that our personalities were better
as just u and me.
No lies.
No judging.

You weren’t the jerk.
The jerk was I:
the one that judged you
without any evidence.
Reason.


I got to know you,
even through my preconceived notions.
You were magnificent,
and brought out the best in me.

I’m glad I gave you a chance.
What if I hadn’t?
What if I had
let my assumptions blind me?

I would be angry, mad, and alone.

Thank you
for letting me see the light,
and past all of the darkness
in you.

I have grown
past the prejudices,
but I still don’t know:
who are we
judging you?