Is it the motion in which we move?
The slip of the tongue,
The dialogue that foreign language so happily sung,
Humans are all symmetrical rhythms full of bumps and cracks.
Imperfections and private fears,
In the end were all different breeds of the same species.
Why is that too bitter to swallow?
Our past is rigid,
full of the conquering and suffering inflicted,
the blood of the Native Americans,
the sweat and perseverance of Africans,
the religious conflicts of the Middle Easterners and Europeans,
and while their small bodies drown in the wars
children cry for peace.
Playing the blame game,
you point a finger at immigrants for taking your jobs,
point one at Israel for not exemplifying peace,
point a finger at Europe's twisted ancestors for shaking up other country's lives:
stealing African children and enslaving women and children,
United Kingdom forcing opium into China.
You stick a middle finger at your government for taking your money and not letting you be free.
But please save the thumb for yourself
because these silent gestures.
They are not words nor actions.
The worst in this world
are the good people that fan the flames of evil
by keeping quiet,
allowing evil to burn.
They are no better than the sweet German people that sat by
not to see that
their Jewish neighbors were disappearing.
It is the majority that condemn this world to a nuclear crater.
This planet is a rainbow
and you can see it from space,
not green and blue,
and if you cannot find that beautiful
then that's your opinion.
But do not plant your negative seeds
in the minds of my multicultural children.
They are beautiful and so are you.
It is your fear of difference that makes you ugly.
So sit next to me on the bus,
save me a seat.
Segregate your hatred away from me.