Walk to School

Who is this Brown man
who enters this bleached White room
to challenge the might of Topeka?

How so, when so many years ago
my predecessor handed down Plessy,
told all that seperation is cold but cool

to ice the nation's hot temper.

Why do I read these 5 cries
when my forefather cauterized the scathing wounds
of so many southern snakes?

58 ages ago
5 cold, cool decades...

and then some.

Perhaps old men die for a reason.

Perhaps for a long time now
I've owed Brown children
a shorter walk to school.

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741