You call me an opposer of racism,
a defender of human decency.
You call me a colorful quilt
filled with vast intricacies
You call me a kindred soul,
one who is quick to lend a helping hand.
You call me slow to speak,
a spark of sunshine in a shadowed land.
But, my friends, I am none of these things.
I am just a single person, born into privilege,
living in a world that has too much of everything.
Lacking exposure the same is true for prejudice.
Due to lack of wounds, times of stress,
and insufferable heartaches.
This wee little heart of mine is just waiting to break.
So do me a favor and imagine me as someone else.
It may take some time, but I have faith you will do it well.
Imagine me as the son of a rich plantation owner.
With the ritziest of friends and the snobbiest of conversations,
when oppressive slavery was the norm within our nation.
Imagine a hot summer day,
and a guy named Big Joe
just whipping away.
I'd like to think I'd stop the whippers hand
with a confident and reaffirming squeeze.
"You have no right to harm this man!
Walk it off, Joe. Is it perhaps the sultry breeze
that's fogging up your judgement?".
But who's to say for sure?
Back then the times were different.
I'd still be the same person deep down
... but what about the mask I take off
when no one else is around?
Imagine me the father of a psychopath,
would I help him get away
with murder simply because he is my blood?
Would I unlock his handcuffs, whispering, "Run son, Run!"
Imagine me in a gang of bullies
making kids feel lower than dirt.
Cracking mean jokes until they burst
... red roses from a gun
(and I thought we were all just having fun).
Imagine me as someone else entirely,
would you still see the raging fire within me?