Color-blind

If I were a dog in 1963, I’d be nervous As I saw my owner plea To have service on a train. I’d be confused if he were hosed down In the streets of Birmingham, Just because he wanted a drink. When I drink water, he doesn’t Spray water on me. I’d be angry if he were in the post office; Shoved to the ground by someone else As they cut in line. I’d cheer along with him As we’d watch a kind man Speak words of peace to a hurting nation. If I were a dog I’d be color-blind, But I’d know the difference between black and white: There isn’t any when it comes to a human life. On a piece of paper black and white Commingle in harmony. Why can’t the white person Standing next to us at the intersection Help my blind owner across the street?