Xenophobia is Xanthopsia

A yellowing of the vision,

A blur in the yearning of sight.

Yesteryear is spotted

With speckles of Xanthosis

Littering the lepers.

Cast out collisions with

Vacant expressions of guilt

Carved in their cheeks.

Crooked smiles of regret

Beam harshly

Tortured by the distortions.

Shallow reflections of unsought beauty

Seen as hideous revelations

Reviled and unseemly.

What fate is this?

We cry in our quaking breaths…

Is this civilization?

If so, I am a Xenophobe.