Not My Kind
They sought shelter from the Winter gales
But was turned away.
The Innkeeper shouted:
'You should know by now
Your kind is not welcome here.'
They wrapped themselves as tightly
As they could but it was hard
For the children.
He closed the door behind them
And watched them leave the premises,
Through the glass-paneled door.
After one hour elapsed
The Parish Priest arrived
'I heard you turned
Away the folks that were here
'Yes, I did, so? '
that's not right and you know it.'
'Easy for you to say.
I run a business here you know.'
'They have money too.
They would have payed you.'
'I don't need there money,
That I can get from my own people.
Let them build their own inn,
Instead of forcing
Themselves where they are not wanted.'
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Comments about this poem (Not My Kind by Buxton Shippy )
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