Civil rights poem

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The front door open and I stepped in

dropped my coins in the box as I always did.

That big man behind the wheel

jerked his meaty thumb toward the rear.

I know just what he meant

that place was for us

we were apart from the rest

so back there I went

Afternoons rush the bus was

crowded there was no more room.

There more of them

than there were of us.

Big man now standing over me

you got to move, you got to sit in the back.

“Excuse me Mr. Bus driver I don’t mean to

cause no fuss, but I just can’t do that anymore”.

it Don’t seem right somehow

I’ve paid my fare and took my seat.

His face was red, as red can be

and him shaking that finger at me.

“You colored’s got to ride in the back.

You know you always have

Now Get”.

Something happened in that moment of time

call it what you will but “Determination covered

me like a quilt on a cold winter’s nigh”. (r parks)

And my eyes became fixed.

It was time to become a human being.

The front door had been opened and I had stepped in.

(This poem is in no way demeaning to Rosa Parks

the conversation is factorial. The outcome is real.)

By David Painter

From: United States