Escaping the South

They tied him down with the same thick threads and chains that he busted out of a few scores ago Unknown white men in white capes with white tips strung him up upon a thick black stump They scolded the defenseless man, swore at him as if he were just a mere pig When in reality, a mere pig was worth more than the life of a Negro to an intolerant bigot The white men surrounded him, some with blades, some with stones, but all with power Fire burns with etchings of a cross in the foreground, as these white men abuse their so-called power Fingertips gone, eyes on the ground, skin burnt all the way down to the core…silence Something about that silence made me ill, made me ponder the validity of my own life Me, sitting there quietly, blending in with the darkness of the horrid night forced my deep epiphany I was no better than the white sheriff in the white south who would undoubtedly not report this hate crime I was not better than this man everyone called Jim Crow, who segregated against a single race And I sure as hell wasn’t better than the man dangling, lifeless on a branch for no reason I just froze, as all my neighbors had done for the past 100 years, afraid to speak up, afraid of the consequences The liberation of slaves was not what we thought, and the reconstruction of the south was sheer misery Why should I feel ashamed of my appearance just because I’m dark? But I remain optimistic, because if I don’t then change is simply impossible I know that we can survive in a society in which we refuse to shun our peers because of their shade The stars and stripes that bind this nation will prevail, because Americans are strong-willed We aim to escape the past, but instead we should reshape our futures