Deceit Be Thy Name Poem by Sheila Jones

Deceit be thy name, wretched wench!
You draw close to me in friendship
As my blood still drips from the dagger
You once plunged into my back.

Bigotry takes many forms and colors.
Your words of hate cut me to the quick
And revealed your true self.
Mislabeling me as what you are.

And now, as you are needy,
I am once again worthy of your friendship?
Not I!
For I am far too ordinary to be in your presence.
I am far too ugly to walk next to you.
And, I am far too perceptive to ignore the dagger
That is still in your hand.