1968

1968 Beaten on the school yard Cursed on the bus Not all the kids hated whites, The few left in the hood. Haters sat at dinner tables Hearing the call to “justice.” Just like us. Nine – not near ready To understand the chemistry of Hate. Fear haunted me, Dark sickening fear, A sticky gray fog covered My days and my nights. Afraid for all of us, and those Eager to do harm. Naïve, ignorant, only knowing Fists and slurs. April fourth, June fifth, 1968 All the world raged, rioted, Hated against hate. The only voices that pierced the fog came from The men with the power to wage peace. Inspired by the truth trickling through Muddy cheesecloth filters covering our minds. Dr. King was only a man, but of God. His devotion to the Power of Love Drilled into my heart Injected me with guilt and Passion. Bobby Kennedy was only a man, But a visionary. The truth, seemingly invisible to us, So painfully twisted his face. Both men dreamed, and now… So do I.