The morality of a highbrow bigot can crucify a poor, barefaced soul in seconds.
The plebeian gets pounced on a slip -- to death -- profusely bleeding without being heard.
Reasons that don't cower in fear and apologies that bury the lowly alive six feet under blindingly shiny shoes, are a murmuring drone of a gnat within earshot.
An annoyance to be silenced, or to be stamped out by inutile tender hands -- pink and moisturized and manicured to high heavens, unsullied -- that have never met any kind of soil.
Because, again, bigot.
Image: Toa Payoh, Singapore