The Colored Man
By Molly, age 13, California
The man looks out to the horizon.He looks like there is something better out there.
He wishes for a better world.
He wishes for no segregation.
He looks down at his colored arms.
He has accepted himself.
Why can't everyone else?
Wishing
Wishing
Wishing
He picks up his old guitar,
starts strumming it,
all his problems float away with the notes.