Father Are You Here

For sometime he had rehearsed, now on the final week

All was coherent, he was certain of what he would speak

The countrymen were racial, the church had only whites

He was invited for sure to give them some greater insights

End the long bickering and inequality

Racial disparagement and social inequity

And still he knew that if he must get along

Regrettably he couldn’t touch on this blaring wrong

Every word he must carefully weigh

You mustn’t see any sighs, he thought, of ethnic mêlée

Off he went but at the church door

Unable to get in he explained he was invited and explained more

He never got in, then, by a tree, upset he asked Father why

Every one knew an invited Priest was coming but never a black guy

Racial preferences shouldn’t have barred me getting in Father

Every one there, the Father said, cries Father,  but they never let me in either