Searching the perimeter of the old barn Uncovering secrets under the hay
The first glance is innocent
But fool him twice shame on him

The dark hand of a child
The tightly rolled hair made by tired hands
Last glance from mother to daughter; One going to freedom
the blank stare as the child takes my dark hand
The slight jog into the darkness, my oldest companion
The trees shading the way, “Mrs. Parks”, the child addresses
A whisper barely heard turns my head to the barn
The flicker of light, a man familiar with it inside
A child’s head is turned by me with force
A single tear escaping the child’s large brown eyes
it reflects mine
The slightest crouch is turned into a crawl
This emptiness is life’s enemy
The crawl into a jog, jog into run
A light flashed through the trees leaves
The only slight of hope in the brown eyes
Is the light’s reflection
Walking to the safe house attic
Moldy fruits and stale bread wait there, the reason for the child’s smile
The echoed yell
Unfamiliar light flickers; the companion has followed me indoors
Eyes peering out the glass
The walk from the attic to forest is deafening
The reason is none other than the unfamiliar silence
Muffled tears wave into my ears
A wind so harsh washes through me
The darkness lifted above my eyes
Previously black and white, the world erupts with color
Looking through the glass; A reflection to the future
The seemingly environment different, the problem seemingly gone
Colored people roam freely on the streets
The issue vanished
But from above the truth is just covered
The situation changed, but the issue adapted
Uncovered truth is ugly, so it is kept hidden
Though the problems differ from the past
The injustice though “weaker”, still carries strong
Solving the problem is rewarded with equality
For people should, “not be judged by the color of their skin but the content of their character.”-MLK