As they cut her hair,
Did they know their legacy?
Surely not,
Though it’s ingrained in everything
They’ve ever been taught,
Implicit and explicit,
Did they feel the weight of each lock,
As it fell to the floor?
The weight of feet torn from land,
Land torn from feet;
Of shackles and brands;
Of false emancipation;
Of separate but “equal”;
Of jumpin’ Jim Crow;
Of rope;
Of crosses, burning and imposed;
Of color blind racism;
Of a new apartheid;
Of always being an alien
In a land deemed ones own?

No.
Of course they didn’t feel it,
Even if they knew it,
They’ll never have such weight to bare,
The racial contract has made it so,
And on and on the story goes,
Adding another lesson to the tales,
This 3 white boys
Who cut the young black girl’s hair.