Incivility

The heavy curtain, refusing to be moved, is slowly forced aside by those who understand hidden scenes and private dialog few audiences have experienced. Inch by inch the rusty gromets slide on the rough surface, where oil has never been, causing discomfort to tender ears. She paid no money to sit in her chair and watch the curtain reveal what she already knew-- a kinship understood. The scene was simple-- two daughters standing behind a woman with a purse hanging from one arm, while holding two confederate flags and a sign of hate held over her head, “ don't you wish you WERE WHITE,” made her stomach-ache and teeth clench, as anger of resistance freed itself from flimsy chains. While the audience responds with tears of empathy, she refuses to acknowledge, will not commiserate, And immediately posts her feelings on social media, “Hate comes in All colors,” revealing a heart incapable of sympathy, unwilling to give respect or show politeness. I notice and cannot be silent with civility dishonored and pain unaddressed, by callous and cold remarks That create new wounds and larger scars. With new vigor I write to avenge a wrong, push back to help change gain a foothold On the slippery slope of bias.