black an white

yea. umm, we read To Kill a Mocking Bird in 5th period (a class i hate) and we were asked to come up with a theme project. well i came up wit two. thought u’d take a look.

 *k so theres been sum delay on reading the actual poems. sorry bout that…technical difficulties. im actually pretty bummed out cuz its saved on publisher so i could but this cool colage border kinda thing…but its not working out. u’ll just have to take it plain. apologies.*

Struggle for Optimism

(Through a Black Man’s Eyes) 

“You get out here, boy,” says the odious voice of a stranger.

My fists clench, my eyes close tight in anger.

“I am a man too sir, just like you.”

He stared at me in ridicule, though behind my back, I knew this were true.

I tried to be brave but I must have said it in a stutter.

“I said get out!” he shouted. “We ain’t got no room for those from the gutter.”

I have witnessed and been victim to many crimes of hate.

And have since decided that a life of reverse malice will not be my fate.

No matter how humiliating it is to turn the other cheek,Over and over again I will do it because through Jesus it is peace I seek.

I walk home with a heart full of hurt on days like these.I fold my hands, bow down, and this I weep:

“Guide me Jesus. What did you do when this hate was forced upon you?Forgive them Lord, for they know not what they do.”

Society’s Sins of Omission

(Through a White Man’s Eyes) 

I look up to see a black man kicked out of a library, but return to my book.

I sit in the guilt that maybe one friend could be all it’ve took.

Like and unlike many, I am white but not a racist.

I find racism abominable, but silence the safest.

In times like these, I hear myself whisper, “I am only an army of one.

Besides, I am always respectful to them. What else can be done?”

Yes, racism is wrong, but it’s not up to me to kick and shout.

I am a man; I have my own problems to think about.

I look up once again and this man’s expression of hurt chases away my comfort.

A human being has been wronged and all along I could have been a help of some sort.

Instead, I quietly hide behind a book as if help was out of range.

Now I sit ashamed because my fear overrides my desire for change.

It is hard knowing that attitudes like mine keep the innocent in oppression.

But on I read, putting out of mind my sins of omission. 

 

M.O.J.O.