SONS AND
DAUGHTERS
WRITTEN FOR THE
CHILDREN’S DEFENSE FUND
If my luck is bad
And his aim is straight
I will leave my life
On the killing field
You can see me die
On the nightly news
As you settle down
To your evening meal.
But you’ll turn your back
As you often do
Yet I am your sons
And your daughters too.
Where the neon lights
Turn my skin from black
To electric blue
My hope soaks red
On the gray pavement
And my dreams die hard
For my life is through.
But you’ll turn your back
As you often do
Yet I am your sons
And your daughters too.
In the little towns
Of this mighty land
To my crying need
I strike out wild
And my brother falls
Turn on your news
You can watch us bleed.
In morgues I’m known
By a numbered tag
In clinics and jails
And junkyards too
You deny my kin
Though I bear your name
For I am a part
Of mankind too.
As you often do
Yet I am your sons
And your daughters too.
Turn your face to me
Please
Let your eyes seek my eyes
Lay your hand upon my arm
Touch me. I am real as flesh
And solid as bone.
I am no metaphor
I am no symbol
I am not a nightmare
I am lasting as hunger
And certain as midnight.
I claim that no council nor committee
Can contain me
Nor fashion me to its whim.
You, come here, hunch with me in this dingy doorway,
Face with me the twisted mouth threat
Of one more desperate
And better armed than I.
Join me again at today’s dime store counter
Where the word to me
Let us go, your shoulder,
Against my shoulder,
To the new picket line
Where my color is still a signal
For brutes to spew their bile
Like spit in my eye.
You, only you, who have made me
Who share this tender taunting history with me
My fathers and mothers
Only you can save me
Only you can order the tides,
That rush my heart, to cease
Into red riverlets.
Come, you my relative
Walk the forest floor with me
Where rampaging animals lurk,
Lusting for my future
Only if your side is by my side
Only if your side is by my side
Will I survive.
But you’ll probably turn your back
As you often do
Yet I am your sons
And your daughters too.