Silence sweeps over the cotton fields of present day Georgia
As gentle winds tickle the cypress and the pine.
Streams ebb contently in their beds.
Who would have thought in such a beautiful place,
Hate and intolerance could rear it's ugly head?
Why couldn't we listen to the man who had a dream?
Why didn't we just let poor Rosa alone?
She had only wanted a good seat.
Why couldn't we understand that all children have the right to learn?
Why did we assemble so viciously for meetings of hate?
Why did so many crosses and churches burn?
Why does the hate continue?
Will it ever end?
Those we perceive as our enemy
Could very well be our best friend.
Why can't we understand
That color does not determine a beautiful heart.