The Woman Under The Tree

I once saw a woman sitting under a tree

She just looked and listened

No words slipped through the crevices of her lips

I watched her as she watched them

Some would get smiles while others got frowns

Then one day she cried

She cried watching the little black boy explain to the policeman that he was just going home and wasn’t suspicious as the people had labeled him

She cried for the little black girl that got snatched into a van but no one heard her cries

She cried as she listened to the black man explain to his wife that he got denied another position because his past just wouldn’t let him go

She cried for that black woman who told her friend forget her child’s father she didn’t need him just like she didn’t have one as a child.

As her tears ran down her face, her sorrow filled the earth, and the world felt her pain.

And as the world felt her pain, my heart began to hurt when I looked at her and she looked at me.

“Do you see,” She asked, “Do you see what we have become?”

Her words drawing me closer and closer until we’re face to face and her hand touches my cheek with her tear filled smile and I realize who she is.

The woman sitting under the tree

The woman taking all this in with much pain and sorrow

The woman disappointed in the world

was me….

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