Freedom Writers

(poems go here) The day the Civil Rights Warriors Traded in their weary feet For chrome-plated wheels Was the day the people realized That if you sped change down a highway going 60 Then racism couldn’t keep pace. “The Journey of Reconciliation, Part Two” Didn’t roll off the tongue So they embarked on their Freedom Ride. White and brown sardines Packed side by side in tin cans Speeding towards the gulf, heart-first. The day the Civil Rights Warriors Fought their first battle Was mother’s day, 1961. There were no mothers waiting for the freedom writers in Alabama. Only stitches, slashed tires, firebombs, Blood pouring from cuts like mama’s homemade stew. But the ride continued Leaving a trail of blood and heroes. The Nashville sit-ins who took over the flight Jim Zwerg, John Seiganthaler Throwing their bodies in between bigotry and hope. The 300 arrested trying to push change forward. The day the Civil Rights Warriors Ended their charge They fell short, New Orleans gleaming in the distance A beacon left unreached. But the damage had been done. The Freedom Riders Found change in the dust under their chrome-plated wheels.