what do i know of equality?

what do i know of equality
but the anger at seeing my brother
grab on to insults flung spitefully, and,
brushed aside,
misunderstand why other mother
won't take her meals with us at the table?

what do i know of equality
of dignity, or of respect
in those afraid to lose?

when i walk on the pavement and i'm
too slow to be the first to step off and
let the other pass and
too slow to smile and
too slow to love

what do i know of equality
marred by desperate, dastardly acts?

even as i pretend to understand the cause
and hear hot, angry whispers of my own
but not my own
and allow those words
that in my ears
ring harsh and hateful

what do i know of equality
so far removed from
these troubles and tribulations?

so far away, because i'm too blank
to love, or be loved

equality?

did we talk about a race, a usurper?
incensed veins with riotous
humour?
who taught hate and self-loathing
and resentment?

who finally realized their mistake
too late?
and instead of
treating the wound, with a poultice
and gentle smile,
apologized, and ran away?

not out of the room, not far enough
never far enough

crouched in a dark corner,
watching in dismay as the
badly bred and badly fed
licks its wounds, lashes out, and
continues to beat itself, its chest
its head

that's all it remembers