The Sweetest Part Poem by Lynn Stillman

Innocence dies so young,
when guns are brought for show and tell.
Will we recognize heaven,
if we cannot see that war is hell?
We are born innocent,
but hatred of another's skin color
must be taught and driven,
like a stake into the heart.
I do not understand this.
I peel an orange because
I was shown that what lies beneath,
the skin is the sweetest part.