White America

This Earth is too blood stained
From thousands of brothers and sisters
Who die every day just to protect our rained,

Washed out world. We get too many blisters
From just trying to control our anger and
Scrubbing the hard concrete. The winters

Are only getting stronger. This land
That was supposed to belong to all of us
Does not belong to just one hand

Or to one heart. We will not make a fuss
Someday out of race, religion, sexuality,
And gender once we all sit on the same bus

Or plane or train. We will find our commonality
Once we get rid of hate and everything that
Is dividing us. There is no finality

To any situation as things that keep us flat
Gives us meaning and purpose. Within the
Truth we will be ourselves and no longer squat.