In the quiet chambers of the mind,
Where thoughts are shaped and dreams refined,
Lurks a shadow, subtle yet profound,
A bias that in silence is bound.

It whispers tales of old and new,
In colors skewed, not always true,
Prejudice seeps into the soul,
And bends the truth that should be whole.

With every glance, a story spun,
Judgments passed before begun,
A world divided by unseen lines,
A truth obscured by biased signs.

But in the heart, a light does gleam,
A hope to shatter this dark dream,
To see the world through clearer eyes,
Where love and truth alone arise.