I wish you knew you were wrong.


You judged me,
quite unfairly,
I might add.
You noticed my tattoos,
your face showed
your disdain.
You made assumptions
regarding who I must be
based soley on
beliefs of your own.
I heard you comment about
“people like her”
and I wanted to ask
just what you mean
when you talk about
people like me.
I wanted to tell you
about who I am,
about the love in my heart,
the faith that I have.
I wear more than
my art on my sleeve.
I took a good look
at what you’re
showing the world,
the designer labels
you made certain I saw.
The way you took out your phone
like you were showing it off.
Is there a reason you carry
your Victorias Secret bag
instead of leaving it in the car?
You do realize we are both
standing in line at Wal Mart,
don’t you?
The look on your face
when I smiled at you
tells me what kind
of person you are.

Crystal R. Cook

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