To the unkind boy in the white car
Who are you to call out hurtful words,
slung carelessly out the window,
fueled by your peers riding alongside,
the cowardice of your insult
hurled as a verbal slingshot
as you drive by, bashing me.
I walked on, head high to brush off the hurt,
my footsteps concentrated to cover the hammer of my heart.
"I've been called worse," I quip,
trying to dismiss the words away,
though naggingly, they trail behind.
What sad state of world we have come to,
the infantile jab, a verbal assault by a boy,
less than half my age,
no friendly small-town America here,
no respect, nor even common decency.
Idiot boy, don't you know there are no camels here?
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