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At a hierarchy of times.
I'm too black, he's too pink,
she crossed the border line;
a bunch of deleterious links tagged
that shouldn't come from America,
and I felt terrible in my fight
for the flag.
Most folks are second-class?
No one really knows them all,
yet labeled and prepared toe tags,
their brilliant lights sheathed.
Bureaucracies with slick ways,
paving graves to hide the
condemnation.
Elation cut short of dull blades,
an agony that lets the pain rage,
placing all ethnic groups in a body cast.
Be we a nation that lasts alas
without bloodshed,
of the flesh and the inner spirit.
-Jg
