I pity your daughter
And all the little girls
Whose listening ears are
Steeping in the poison
Creeping out of her pores
Like the festering mold
That comes when good things die
Without the sun

I pity your daughter
For the things you never
Taught her or maybe you
Said them but you were too
Busy praising her lack
Of skill to make her see

That in this new free world
Her hatred will have no
Place because we aren’t quite
Perfect but we try and
Her eyes that only see
Skin and race will not serve
Her well if she leaves the
Backwoods and opens her
Mouth in all its wrongness

My sister’s beauty and
My best friend’s wit are lost
In her ignorance and
I pity your daughter
For the world and the life
And the magnificence
Of a song that she will
Not be able to hear

It’s a shame.