Shadow in the Midnight
Black I am and I am hiding
from the man with the black beater in his hand
and the shiny badge.
He is relentless in his pursuit
in finding and locking me up.
I hide in an alley with the stench-filled dumpster
that has been neglected like
I never pointed the finger of blame
but now I am forced to.
As I see the real truth
I have come to the realization that
life isn’t as simple as I see it.
It never will be, either.
One of the many sad realizations
we have to face in America.
I could never understand why
foreigners’ lust to come here.
Everything that’s advertised in books and magazines
aren’t really what they are.
People get singled out here, too.
People die for their freedom here, too.
People just like me
get overlooked by their government
Why would you want to come here?
I love this great land. Do not misinterpret my words.
But I am surely not free.
I once was considered three fifths of a person.
Why would people want to come here
where people like me have all the opportunity in the world
and throw it away?
© 2008 by Charles Banks, Jr.
Writing as BLACK ANGEL
Excerpted from Page 120 of A Rose in the Name of Love