Zealots have no humor.
Zealots make me sick.
Zealots are inflexible.
And do not help one lick.
Your faith, your fear, your certainty,
In how the world should be,
Your rigid lack of compromise,
Can’t trump reality.
I know you think the world would be,
In perfect harmony
If all the people not like you,
Would simply let you lead.
But that ain’t going to happen.
Still things will turn out fine.
Embracing people’s differences,
Can help us change our mind.
The world evolves without you,
To which I’m sure you’ll fight.
Is doing what is right.
Now when it comes to justice,
And treating people fair,
I could be called a zealot.
That’s a moniker I’ll wear.
The difference is I do believe,
All folks will come around.
We all fall from out pedestals,
And that’s where love is found..