This poem was written in downtown San Diego near Horton Plaza after meeting a monk of the Baha’i faith.
He spoke with an accent from somewhere far East,
his voice soft and his eyes good natured.
Yet for his beliefs he is abused like a beast.
His doctrine is kindness and easy to follow,
but his god’s name isn’t Christ,
So his views this pig nation cannot swallow.
Oh what a morbid disheartening tale,
for though his is a message of love,
it can never be followed for it involves neither buying nor sale.
And this is why, not even by the most clever scholars,
our world’s problems will never be solved,
unless they deal with cents and dollars.
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