White License

days are blades
honed ribbons
an atoms breadth
unseen by the eye bare
but made visible, magnified
by the mirror
reflecting aged white skin
worn, eroded, falling
Behold! its bearer
the standard-bearer
leader of the status quo
desperate to maintain and hold
he has opinions
and his complexion
grants him license to speak
what’s best
the white man knows
and his wallet knows better
what’s best for black, woman and poor
what they should be doing
how they should be living
if only they’d listen
to his words
compassionately inspired
direct from a genteel heart
they could all be so happy
and stop worrying
their pretty little heads so nappy
if only they would truly hear
how hard labor is its own reward
how money can’t buy happiness
how a sunny disposition
softens the hardest of circumstances
it is not chains and laws that enslave
but the mind
so cheer up, be merry
leave your troubles behind
life is short
don’t sweat the small stuff
it’s always been this way
always will be
Rome wasn’t built in a day
so stop building why don’tchya?
relax, and have a cold one
hey, look! football!!

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