My Dream Lunch

Location

66869
United States
38° 29' 34.89" N, 96° 30' 51.5124" W

Walking down the busy street
surounded by melodious voices,
low and deep, high and sweet.

I enter a building to my right.
My mouth waters, an aroma fills my scences.
Juicy meet, savory treats, pleasing to my sight.

Walking to the counter, suddenly I feel cold.
The hardness in his eys is all too familiar
Taking a breath, I try to be bold.

I order quickly, nervously paying the price.
He hands back change, and then I move to the side.
A quick "Thank you, have a good day!" would have been nice.

Next in line moves up, a blond in high heels.
The man's eys change, he flashes a huge smile,
then descibes to her the daily deals.

What did I do to deserve his hate?
What did she do to earn his smile?
I'm tired of being second rate.

I think of Woolworth's lunch counter protest,
and how those students took a stand.
Times are better now, but not yet the best.

I am so thankful for those mighty four,
how together they sat despite the hate.
Because of them, today I entered that door.

Like Martin Luther King Jr., I also have a dream.
A dream of finally ending this war, this hate.
Of joining together as one, a team.

All those voices outside the door,
unknowingly united, they create a tune.
Harmonious, it shakes me to the core.

The power of raised voices,
what could happen, just think,
if together we made the right choices.

If with purpose we sang,
of a love that knows no bounds
and throughout the world it rang.

If we all loved our neighbor,
looked within, past the veneer
and found each person's true flavor

I took my food, and sat at a table.
I ate in contemplative silence,
dreaming of a lunch when I'm no longer stuck with a lable.

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