I see them look at my dark skin
look at my textured hair
and my sad eyes

Little kids stare
while their Mommas scold them
“Don’t look at him! Hold on to my hand”
They say.

On the TV’s in their nice homes,
I see crazy college kids riding buses
and making a statement
and being attacked

They should know better
than to try to upset this long established
social order, this hierarchy, this caste system

Those fools are too hopeful, too naive
My folk have been mistreated for centuries
No crazy bus riders,
or cafeteria sit ins,
or riots,
or marches,
or protests,
can change was it is ingrained in society.

Call me cynical, pessimistic, or whatever you like
I’d love to say the world will be better for my children to come
but I don’t think it will, I’m no fool.