The Race Card

British.
Irish.
Italian.
Jewish.
And other nondescript to identify,
To claim and maintain...
Separate ethnicities.
In these United States of America.
Home of the brave; Land of the 'wannabees'.
All immigrants to be perceived,
By those born Native Americans to be.

And yet...
The moment anyone black of skin mentions,
How proud they are...
Of their heritage and ancestry.
Up turned are noses.
Shut close goes the minds.
This gives reason for someone to say,
Those obviously descendents of Africans.
Are only doing it to use the race card.
A race card to use.
To validate the playing,
The same old and tired game.
With this done to do,
Knowing they possess a joker or two.
Or attention to get.
Allowing them to continue,
To remain staying to play.
Although believe to be fools.
Used to trick and dupe on a daily basis.

Since no one has denied or refused,
Anyone who has BOTH JOKERS removed.
Or thought them incapable to learn,
With a few tricks of their own.
And if they sat long enough,
In this same tired game to play.
Maybe.
Just maybe...
Others who believe,
They still have more tricks up their sleeves.
Will one day be convinced.
They need to learn and be taught,
Who in the game played...
Does it with common sense.
With a bit of finesse.
Yes.
And can also teach,
Who amongst them...
They should have never taken for granted.

'Where did you say,
Your ancestors are from, again?'

'I didn't.
And what difference does it make?
Would that make me less,
Than the born American citizen I am?

'No.
Do not label me a racist.
Afterall...
My mail is delivered by someone black.
But you play the game very well.'

'Oh?
What would you rather believe?
I awakened yesterday.
And had an array of options to pick from?
With a doing to choose only one.
Leaving me feeling pleased.
This may or may not,
Be difficult for you to accept.
But I knew before you did,
The obvious to expect.'