Charlie
John Clare Stokes
We talked of old times
How being black in jail
Wasn’t a good thing
Back then
How the kindly white man
Whom you mowed and raked for
Made a call to the judge
And got you out with probation
Charlie grew up without a daddy
Died when he was two
Mamma raised them all
On one twenty five a month
And so as Charlie in the little green
Nissan pickup put it in reverse
He handed me the tract to read
My heart indeed did sink
To know of his persuasion
No comments:
Post a Comment