“We”

It is hard not to see,
That “We the people” was never meant to be.
Yet, how could there be “we”?
If there is only you and, separately, me?
Who gets to choose who is “we”?
He who holds the pen holds the power.
Our country’s birth, a point of pride,
Also not its finest hour.
“We” speaks of unity,
Yet a pronoun or a skin color divide.
“We” speaks of openness,
Yet when it comes to whose life matters, who decides?
Raised on principles of right and good,
With an alarming gap when it comes to sister- and brotherhood.
Life, liberty, and happiness’ pursuit,
But try to rectify “ALL men” and the point seems kind of moot.
Ideals of a country,
So beautiful and free.
But application is unequal,
When you explore who is “we”.
Ideals of a person,
So righteous and pure.
Though when you venture beyond comfort,
One can’t reasonably be sure.
And also what is comfort?
A value all its own.
If we’ve been complicit,
What would it take for that truth to be shown?
Discomfort is a privilege,
As is the choice to let it in.
It’s hard for some to see at first,
But recognizing is how you begin.
Did you have a choice to care?
Or was your life at stake?
No matter what the trauma borne,
Did race it harder make?
A foundation that’s unstable,
Patchwork system maintained at all cost.
You have to check assumptions,
When yet another Black life is lost.
Rights so sacrosanct to us,
High among them the right to speak free.
How is it then that you can stage a coup,
When some can’t take a knee?
It’s far past time to ask ourselves,
Who, really, we mean by “we”?
And, when silence is compliance,
Who are you going to be?

(Written in the summer of 2020, but feeling especially resonant now so I added two verses…)