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Tom Turner
Poems
May 2022
Red Stop Sign
A black man and
A blond man and
A brown man
all sat down to dinner.
And no one noticed.
Isn’t that the way
it’s meant to be?
Why can’t we be
Black or
Blond or
Brown,
with no meaning,
after all.
Why can’t colors
just be colors?
Why do we
make it more
than a red stop sign
or golden arches?
Written by
Tom Turner
75/M/North Carolina
(75/M/North Carolina)
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