They said that,
tragedy holds the greatest power,
to unite a nation together.
Have we ever stopped,
to ponder why it is,
that we were not as one?

From the infant steps imprinted,
by the feet of the wide-eyed;
Pilgrims blew a farewell to the Mayflower.
Their minds were immature to reality.
Survival was a game,
but not played unaccompanied.

It took not a great mind,
no,
but the acceptance of another.
The knowledge to see the greater,
the talent,
in one of a counter race.
Neither built a feast,
off of hatred,
false convictions,
or flesh coloring.
For,
it was built from something grander..

Unity.

Turn the clocks.
Let them tick away.
Where are we now?
We brawl..
over the superior race.
We debate on who,
constitutes to the degree,
of having a worth to life.
Our streets are sprawled with blood,
some of those who preach the protection,
of the violence that is destroying us.

If we,
were to be the pilgrims,
1620,
would we hold hands with whom we did not know?
Or would we choose to perish,
only for that,
the hand reaching out,
is unfamiliar in shade?

We suffer,
because we refuse to see.
We fail to give the hand,
to those we have grown to seem unfamiliar.
Our mindset refuses,
to except a difference.
Thus,
we are allowing ours streets to be stained red,
We suffer,
because we do not help ourselves grow as one.

Unity.