How strange it was
To see the new you.
I remember us
12 years old
Wearing our lip gloss
And knee socks--
Mocking nuns
On the four square court
As they walked by
Counting their rosarys.
Back then there were no
Outstanding differences
Between what I now see
As the confident black dancer
Who brags about her boyfriend
And the shy white artist
Who craves attention.
Now that is what we are.
We are not our names.
We are not what we have in common.
We are black and white,
And we embrace those colors
About as much as we did
When we laughed in the schoolyard
At the old nun's habit.
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Great job.
--
Militant Atheist
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