There once was a stupid old man
he was wrinkled and sat in the can
he did fret all day long
also sang a sad song
in the morning he ate only bran.

He admired frank people like me
though his brain was the size of a flea
and in different times
he would die for his crimes
Though the man was just honest and free.
I 'm his neighbour and proud to belong
to the race of the brave and the strong
but I can't understand
how his turcica gland
would be happy to sing its own song.

Yes the world has a terrible past
as so many would judge things so fast.
Yet I was not the one
who would pull out his gun
just to blast from this earth its own past.

And to turn all the tables at once
nurture hatred and do the hate dance
is a shitty old tactic
and in no way didactic
it's enough to give someone the runs.

Herbert Nehrlich

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/my-sad-neighbour/