Dear Martin,
         So many years have passed and it breaks my heart to say that the oppression is still there. You'd think that in the years, the hate would have slowly died down, but sadly it seems to grow bigger, evolve, into a beast, a monster. Martin, I do not write to you to tell you that this war is still going on. I write to tell to that we've made progress. Broke stereotypes. moved mountains. Each day waking up choosing not to fight hate with hate.
    But Dr.King I wonder, I truly do wonder,
if they are so blind that they cannot see the pain they cause.
I wonder if I am naive to think
that all the movies and shows that portray the struggles that African Americans go through, will break them, make them show sympathy.
I wonder if they have wrapped their heart in so many layers of stone,
that no matter how many times the ocean hits the stone,
it will not be able to weather the stone away.
I wonder if someday,
'hate' will be too weak a word to describe how they feel,
or maybe just maybe it will instead become too heavy on their shoulders,
and they will have no choice but to let it go.
I wonder if people think this is God's doing,
cause Ma always tells me, whatever situation you find yourself,
good or bad,
believe the Lord will guide you through.
Do you believe in God Dr. King?
I do.
I believe that he will take pity on us,
on the brothers who have died,
on the mothers who have mourned,  
on the sisters who are mistreated,
on the fathers who are wrongfully convicted,
I believe he will take pity and end this war.
I believe in your dream, Dr. King,
and dreams do not die, they merely take time to manifest.
I have hope that it'll become a reality, and I hope you do too.
Sincerely.

"Come on Rosie let's go to town." Rosie smiled instead of a frown. Finally she can leave that giant white house, she's tried of being an indoor mouse. The nanny smiles and gives her a kiss, lets her know that she will be missed. Mama gently grabs her hand, Rosie wants to explore that outside land. Watching through windows as life rolls on, too young to be someone until life rolls on.
  The summer air hits her face, the cool breeze makes the trees wave. Summer flowers are strong and in bloom, she wants to go to the park soon. "Mama mama can we go?" Anything for her angel she shows. Skip down the sidewalk not a worry in mind, life is beautiful Rosie will find.
   Into the park mama lets her play. If she could she would stay all day. Climb the tree and play in the dirt. Not much to do but she makes it work. A wall of trees hold her back,  just like the rules, she silently laughs. Look back to see mama's not watching, sneak into the woods at the rivers crossing.
  The feeling of excitement rushed through her body, time to explore, time to be naughty. She sees pretty birds and little creatures, the fascination excites her. New emotions fire up like a lighter. Then she feels something touch her head, stops in her tracks with feet like lead.
   Look up to see a man hanging there. Feet dangling in the air. Catches her breath, she can't scream, look into his eyes and see the pain. A fresh noose around his neck, body torn, body limp. Rosie screams with her held air, she doesn't understand why, she knows that shes scared.
   Mama covers her eyes, mama grabs her away. Rosie hears of a lynching that day. What does it mean, she doesn't know. Years go by before she knows. It's not fair what they did to him, her family doesn't care that there are more like him. Rosalie cries for the lost man.
And this is where summer ends