i cry and clap
as you walk by-
a line of brown,
camoflaged
yet standing out
against the white
of the airport floor-
coming through
the throng of people
who carry knives
when you're away,
stabbing helplessly,
unknowingly,
yet some do know.
the acceptance they seek
with all their hearts
lies not in this world,
not in peace,
for peace may never be-
not entirely at least-
but there is hope
in the blood,
there is peace
in the death.
i cry and clap
for you
because it is my dream
to be like you:
heroic,
brave,
strong.
i see your faces
as you walk by-
not just brown,
but white,
and tan,
and peachy-
yet no matter what color,
all your faces speak
with one voice
in a chorus of humility.
my heart goes out
because of the hurt,
and pain,
and misunderstandings,
and i can't believe
the nerve
of those who stand in your way.
yet emotionally
and physically
it is well with my soul.