Ordinary Strangers Poem by Tori Lizama

I love this cruel world that treats herotics all the same
no matter who started what, we're all to blame.
All the cynical and naive people, walking down the street.
Ordinary strangers that we everyday meet.
We all hate and fear the different and the strange;
the deaf, dumb, and blind that we ourselves rearrange.
We notice flying objects that our imagination explores
and high society people that closes their doors.