Ordinary people

who had to stand

when nobody else would.

A dressmaker at the end

of a very weary day.

Too tired to stand

or move to the back of the bus.

She couldn't rest

in the nearest seat.

Why not?

Oh that.

An indignity

whose end had come.

A city kid

working on the farm.

Learning how

his country cousins lived.

A cheeky kid who saw

a slightly older womanand did

what adolescent boys sometimes do.

For that he had to die?

Tell me why?

The ebony key

has played so sweet,

it's enlightened us,

enchanted us,

entertained us,

educated us.

It's given our souls

so much wealth

beyond the stage and field.

Whatever our skin's hue.

Yet those triumphs

are stained with tears

and vicious taunts

and burtal walls

knocked down by ordinary people.