I Am (Justice)

i am, become...
i am the African slave
working in the deep Mississippi sun;
his eyes, his muscles, his back, his heart,
all shouting 'freedom'...
i am the college student,
hanging from a tree
in the sixties south,
who died for his conviction...
i am the minister
who joined the protest for peace,
dignity, and equality,
his face bashed in by the officer's club,
handcuffed in the back of the van...

i am the turning of the seasons
through prison bars,
the watered down coffee,
the tiny cell.
i am the one ridiculed and rundown
by the conservative righteous right,
for standing up for individual rights.
i am the young family left stranded
on food stamps and unemployment checks,
their future teetering...

i am the illegal immigrant beaten
in the Arizona desert,
left to die by the side of the road....

i am the working poor,
the honest and true,
driven to desperation...

i am hard and coiled,
i am America crying out for justice, , ,
i am, become...

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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