We grew up in different worlds in the city.
When I think about my bucolic privilege,
I now view it’s exclusivity with pity,

because I walked, ran and rode my bike
to the park to play
without a single cop in sight.

Some would say, “How fortunate for that,
for a first-generation immigrant kid,”
but that’s just a myth in fact.

Yes, it kept me from a hard knock life
and I’m grateful for that
but that privilege would lead to godless strife.

It was called white flight.
With fear in our hearts, we left
sometime during the night.

Blacks bought our homes
thinking it was step up — an escape route
but then cops roamed and roamed,

and kids couldn’t venture to the park
to run, bike, hike and play —
their unprivileged future looking dark.

So, now here we are
all these years later.
We haven’t gotten that far

in matters of justice, peace and a better way.
But Black Lives Matter
and we all have Divine DNA

and we now work toward that God blessed day
of equality, peace and inclusivity.
Yes, for this we pray.