Story of a Black Town

Let me recount the history
of an old black town or two,
here in this “greatest of nations”,
in this land of the red, white, and blue.
There once were segregated towns
where black folks lived and thrived
but white folks didn’t like that much
and thought that they should die.
White women made up stories
about rape and assault and such
to get their men all riled up
and kick up a murderous fuss—
So often an angry mob arose
looking for the (wrongly) accused:
any black man or men or boys—
really, any old black would do.
And when they found the one they wanted
(or whoever would fit the bill)
they brought their guns, their clans, their sons
to loot, to riot, to kill.
They terrorized the people
they looted and stole as well
robbed them of their rights and land
then burned their towns to hell—
They murdered in the name of justice
they killed to protect their kind
to ensure that blacks would know their place
and give white folks peace of mind.
It happened down in Tulsa
in Colfax and Rosewood, too
Elaine and Wilmington took a hit
and Atlanta was not immune.
In every part of this nation
where black folks sought to thrive,
white folks would not stand for such
and made sure that they would die.
Because here in this “greatest of nations”,
in this land of the red, white, and blue,
freedom to thrive, be free, and live
was not for men of a dark-skinned hue.