With A Feather In It

She had brown skin, tightly curled, shiny black hair and when she was escorted off the bus, nobody helped.

He had a ruddy complexion and a feather in his hair and when he collapsed along the road that led from the bars back to Pine Ridge, nobody helped.

He had fair skin and blond hair and when he was strapped to the fence and had the shit beaten out of him, nobody helped.

She had olive skin, smooth, straight, radiant black hair and when they put her in an interment camp, nobody helped.

He had closely cropped hair and sat in a wheelchair having lost three limbs in Viet Nam and when they labeled him “Un-American,” nobody helped.

He had the look of a Middle-Eastern terrorist down to a tee and when they nailed him, pounded him, hoisted him for all to mock, nobody helped.

But because of the guy who looked like a Middle-Eastern terrorist,

this privileged, old, white guy who takes so much for granted because so much has been granted better understand his skin is brown, ruddy, fair, olive and his hair is tightly curled, shiny black, blond, smooth, close cropped

with a feather in it.