Gruff grouch griping His words say bags But his tone says blacks- I'm a piece of slate covered up by white Bars that shimmer in fluorescent lights - He's just doing his job. I went to a wedding And now I'm having my bag checked Just me, no one else, For "contraband." That white boy over there, Yeah the one with blue eyes, eyes that make you Comfortable, He left his passport at home. You smile at him, it's okay you say, Today is not your day, you bark at me. It never is.
An incident I saw on the train leaving Canada today, I decided to write from the POV of the person chosen for a "random" check.