Underneath We are All the Same!
He prayed-it wasn’t my religion.
He ate -it wasn’t what I ate.
He spoke- it wasn’t my language.
He dressed-it wasn’t what I wore.
He took my hand -it wasn’t the color of mine.
But when he laughed- it was how I laughed,
and when he cried- it was how I cried.
– Amy Maddox age 16