Are You A Man?

W R Shields

I do not ask, my friend, if you

Were born a Gentile or a Jew,

A Buddhist, or Mohammedan:

I only ask, are you a man?

It matters not, my friend, to me

If you are black as black can be,

Or coloured red, or brown, or tan:

I ask but this, are you a man?

I care not, brother, whence you came,

Nor do I seek to know your name,

Your race, religion, creed or clan:

I want to know if you’re a man.

I care not if you’re homely quite,

Or handsome as an angle bright,

If you, throughout your little span,

Have only shown yourself a man.

I think that most men think like that:

They hate a weakling, loathe a rat;

They’ve always liked, since time began,

One who is first and last a man.






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