Uniform

Uniform

I used to trust the one in uniform

The one who in all the kids’ books are the good guys

That happy jolly guy with a cup of coffee and a donut

That is how I saw that uniform at age 5

But now I see different [with different eyes]

My eyes have been stabled opened

And with each shocking revelation after revelation,

My eyes grow wider

Shocked and appalled

And then I see the faces of all the blood

The innocent blood that stains those uniforms

The brothers, the sons, the fathers,

The sisters, the daughters, the mothers,

The cousins and the friends

The ray of sunshine in someone’s life

And still the uniform lies

Trying to take up for their own

Fearing for their lives against the unarmed child

Barely an adult in this world.

The uniforms have the gun

Yet so paranoid of the everyday person.

“The citizens are the enemy.” Is that your philosophy?

How fucked up considering your job is to protect us!

I hear the system of the uniform is broken.

But this isn’t broken.

Broken means you lack the ability to function.

This is corruption.

For the uniform still functions and still stains innocent red on the uniform.

A uniform meant for so much more and far greater dignity.

The uniform should be a symbol

Of the bravery to do what’s right

Of the courage to uphold the truth

Of the high morals and common sense that we can look up to and respect.

But it seems the uniform can’t see beyond colors.

For if your skin is anything other than a creamy peach,

You’re 5 times as likely to be their target.

To be more innocent blood staining the uniform,

With your name on a memorial plaque.

And to still not have any justice or change after a year,

To have those left behind crying.

For justice and change may never come

And still none of our lawmakers want to stand up and address the problem.

They’re all busy arguing and throwing fits

This really is the land of confusion.

But in 1986, Genesis said their generation would put it right.

Maybe it hasn’t been long enough or maybe it’s been too long.

But we need to make more strides.

Reach for the impossible and make the impossible real.

Martin Luther started it when he pinned that note on the church door.

King Jr. marched a peaceful march, preaching of a dream.

And who are we?

Will we huddle up in fear of a uniform?

Or will we finally all stand together?

Cry to the sky that enough is enough,

Demanding change, because it’s long overdue,

Because this nation was supposed to be built for its people by its people

And if enough of us demand it, they have to give it.

Because what so many of the uniforms don’t see

Is that from the blackest brown to the whitest peach,

We’re all a variation of orange

And We stand together in the same section of that giant pack of Crayola crayons.