Being Woke
An original poem
It is time
To talk about being woke
And the feelings that word evokes
Has woke become a religion
With devotees and fanatics
In which people fear voicing an opinion
Fear being a part of polemics
Tow the line or get cancelled
Double check every word you say
Lest your reputation be mangled
And your life left in disarray
Woke used to mean being aware
Of social justice and racial inequality
It meant understanding the despair
Of certain racial groups in society
Woke meant knowing the nuances
Of systemic injustices that folks face
It meant understanding biases
From an empathetic headspace
Woke was never about accusations
Nor shutting down conversations
Being inflammatory
Or burning everything to the ground
It is also time
To have a serious conversation
On the topic of racial tension
We know history’s written by victors
They show themselves in the best light
And much history was written
By people who called themselves white
Leave out what will make us look cruel
Repaint the picture to reach blamelessness
If we did anything brutal
Let us hide it on this canvas—flawless
Subscribed
We didn’t secede because of slaves
We did out of persecution
We beat no one to an early grave
A heavy hand showed no advantage
When they were free, we all agreed
That they should live apart from us
But that was nothing they fancied
We had to surrender once more
And now they talk reparations
Want to change the way we we talk
And if we don’t, we face cancellation
White people are now on the chopping block
But it is time
To talk about being woke
What it means to black and white folks
Using a religion as a means of controlling
Our gender, our choices, our lives
They’ve resorted to denouncing
Who we choose to be, husbands or wives
They scream murder when we talk of abortion
But capital punishment and war, they are fine
They have to qualms about selective objection
Either we choose their way or the highway
All this is done in the name of a religion
Based on love and forgiveness, originally
But this is a disgusting perversion
Filled with hate and deceptiveness
What common ground can we find
To have a discussion about white and black
It must begin with us being kind
Where each side chooses to listen, not attack
But dear reader, even with simple solutions
I find myself in a pit of despair
It’s much harder to use love than aggression
When it comes to the things that we fear.
