Superiority

Why colour makes one better
Why creed puts one ahead
Grey matter inside the same
Burial must, when dead

Insignia

Clock chimes eight
I am certainly late
moment is gone
Left all alone
in a large crowd
Just on my own
No one to talk
No one to phone
Long walk to nowhere
Heartache prone
Excluded, a leper
large tumour grown
Keep vultures at bay
pure grit shown
wasted beautiful moments
now buried under a stone