Anger–you can see it on their grimaced faces;

Marching, hands raised in civil defiance.

Neither curfew nor militarization will quell them

In the face of injustice.

What passes for authority tries to divert,

Maybe he took the “sweets”, maybe he didn’t,

Maybe he smoked a little weed,

Maybe jaywalking is a capital crime in the south,

Maybe murder is ignored when hidden behind a badge.

So much for civil rights,

So much for equality under the law,

So much for compassion and common decency.

He was eighteen and unarmed,

Of this there is no dispute!

Perhaps he wasn’t an angel…are any of us?

I have bent the law,

Maybe even broken it a time or two,

But I’m still here, breathing, smiling, growing older.

We can deny–

That racism exists,

We can deny–

That blacks are treated differently than whites,

We can deny–

That skin color matters,

But denial doesn’t make it so!

Changing laws do not change hearts,

And time does not necessarily heal…

These are irrefutable facts.

Behind closed doors we disrobe,

Taking off our suit of political correctness,

To reveal naked hate.

We spew the epithets of our fathers,

Who broke the backs of an unwilling immigrant.

It’s as though times have never changed…

And perhaps they haven’t.

The manacles once of iron are now invisible,

The whips of braided leather no longer leave scars,

But the pain, fear and displacement still exists

…In this twenty-first century.

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~