The Color Of Authority

The general essence of the spirit of the times

The usual substance or prejudice tenure

Were individual diaries printed

Bound to form history’s annals juncture.

 

I was tied to that which I oppose;

I walked abreast of untamed freedom

That broke through June with bitter cold

To bite with blizzard out of season.

 

I held the noose of bigotry but dared I not

In that grip to loose the snare potential

But knelt on Sunday with rope through folded hands

And prayed with words such as these. Oh! so reverential.

 

I claimed sanctuary on the altar of ignorance

The same ignorance that afforded my prosperity

That danced to a requiem as if a jig

What a coupe they made in their duplicity.

 

I harbored the vessel built to navigate,

Moored with no anchor it lurched to and fro.

I made light of how I made it look;

Posted signs to where it could go.

 

Yes, it was the gender that I was assigned.

And for myself inalienable rights

That only men of my superior stature

Could hope to keep within his sights.

 

My strength implied with all my statements

My worthy adversary exerts with powerful question

What is the color of authority

Of the man who wrote the proclamation?

 

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