ANOTHER DREAM

The other feels superior.
The other not weak yet seems inferior;
One coated with fear.
An order built on the foundation
of difference from pigments.

The other prefers to live in the past,
For in the past, they were looked upon as masters.
The status now lost.
They still unable to keep up with the heat,
That yesterday's slave is today's equal.
A threatening: they think perhaps.

The other prefers the present.
Yet the alternate was to be with fear;
An inheritance: for their fathers' lived with it.
They dared not reminisce the past, yet it lives with them still.
Where they not still judged by that pigment?
Ah. They were. A curse: they think perhaps.

Here on my desk, I'm evoking memories
Of that moment when one from the other
Had stood afore a mass of beings under the open sky
And had made proclaim his dream.
A manifest of that dream would later effect,
And they prided their pigment.

But look on today,
The resolve from the parley is yet still disobeyed,
And never still revered.
The other still reclining on the past,
And the other encapsulated in fear still;
Such an unbalanced scale.

Now hear me:
I foresee a time when tables shall turn,
And the scale balanced - though not readily.
It might be a result of a scuffle or of another parley even.
A time when the fears would be assuaged,
And the inferior pigment priding their pride.

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