But Why Are They Afraid?



Photo of Anti-Trump protestor in Union Square, NYC (11/11/16)

Hatred is misguided fear, but why are they afraid?

The texture of my hair, or the fabric that covers it should not evoke fear.

Painting their faces with pitch only brings to mind the question of — Why?

Does it allay their fear? But why are they afraid?

Will they unravel the hose, unleash the dogs — or burn the crosses by three?

I will still rise in the morning with the sun at my face —

No, their burning cross did not put me in my place.

What reaction are they trying to pull? We have no King or X to lead us — guide us.

I have myself, my sisters, my brothers — from everywhere.

We want to know the root of their fear, but why are they afraid?

They spray swastikas and words of insult — oh my little heart is hurt

No, not really. I will still rise with the sun at my face.


Karma slowly snakes her way through lives of privilege and poverty.

They know not when it comes. Today, tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow.

They will have forgotten about the crooked cross or the three K’s.

They will say “What did I do to deserve this?”

They will be enveloped with fear, but why are they afraid?


Written by Liz Kelso 2016 (c) 

About Liz Kelso

This entry was posted in Poetry, Uncategorized and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

1 Response to But Why Are They Afraid?

  1. I can honestly tell you that I am very deeply saddened by Trumps victory! Not only do I despise Trump and everything he stands for but I have been a supporter for Hillary for years now!
    I literally cried (several times actually) when I found out about his win, unfairly, I might add.
    This will certainly be a very different US during his reign.
    Time will tell!
    Love you my dear sister!
    Have a great Thanksgiving!


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