Free verse poetry

I complain to the heavens,
the uneveness of living,
one born poor, only dreaming to be rich,
one born unique and peculiar is called ugly,
one of leveled height called short,
one arrayed of shades is called colored,

Oh, the prejudice of black and white,
abundance and scarcity,
deep lows and blinding heights,
forms and facets of beauty,
perceived by clouded views,

I protest these unloving thoughts,
that makes the living sorrowful.