Thou shalt not bow down thyself unto them, nor serve them: for I the Lord thy God am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children unto the third and fourth generation of them that hate me, -Deuteronomy 5:9 (KJV)
When I learned how his mother died
I felt a stabbing pain inside.
A little boy lost his mother.
A husband lost his wife.
School children lost their teacher.
A community lost a light.
And for what?
Did it make them feel good inside
to know she’d died?
Did they laugh and drink and celebrate?
Burn a cross? Seethe with hate?
Do their children know what they did?
Carry the secret? Do they give a shit?
I was born into such a family.
Card-carrying klansmen fill our tree.
They still utter aloud the racist word
they’d swear up and down I hadn’t heard.
I have never been able to comprehend
how they hate so hard a color of skin.
I carry their guilt
because they won’t.
They think they’re fine
and I’ve lost my fucking mind.
But if your racist ass is what normal should be,
by all means call me crazy.