Over The Balcony

Over The Balcony
we stand 
like a Cesar or 
a Napoleon
looking down
at those who are 
different from 
us

Filled with Ethnocentrism
it seeps through our skin
and lingers from 
our breath
Creating a self-made
imperialist 
A birth mark
that comes from
being born

Though our  morals
tells us we are in the
wrong 
the stench 
is still
there 
it cannot 
be washed out
cleansed 
or removed

The natural
thought of
being superior
will not go
away
it's there
even among
the most humanitarian
souls 

it's our stigma
originating
from being
human

It is our curse