The Profane Water Fountain

Once upon a time if you were the wrong, darker race
You couldn’t drink out of the privileged race’s water fountain.
You had to drink out of a separate, segregated water fountain,
As if like the untouchables of India it was felt you’d profane
The privileged race’s off limits, undefiled water supply.
This makes me wonder what kind of idiot made that decision,
And who the hell made him or her think he or she was
A superior race like Hitler’s master race illusionary nonsense.
Thank God we can all drink out of the same water fountains now.

Bob Boyd

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Author: BobBoyd

79, cancer survivor, work out 3 times a week, ride my exercise bike 2 hours daily. Began writing poetry October 2023, living in Greensboro, North Carolina, retired and enjoying a reclusive, solo, ever seeking knowledge life.

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