Different days

Sometimes we blame the outsider

For anything different or new

We can’t see ourselves being hoodwinked

When it’s drip fed syrupy sweet

It’s easier to charge the other ones

Whoever they may be

Lives lived differently there’s suspicion

Blame wrought by change.

You’ll see so many with the label pinned

Of vagabond, gypsy, witch

But you see in the eyes of the accuser

The fear that makes them twitch

In these different days there’s one thing

We need to accept

That being a changer is not a crime

Ailsa

©️AilsaCawleyPoetry 2018

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Author: ailsacawley

I have written since I can remember, devouring the stories of Roald Dahl under the covers by torchlight. I have always loved fairy tales, myths and magic. A good deal of the things I write has some truth in it. Others, not. I’m pleased you dropped by, please feel free to leave me a comment or if you’re kind enough to share that’s fine. ☺️

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