So you’ll just sit there, then?
At the edge of injustice?
On the brink of choosing right over wrong?
Are those the best seats?
With the best view of the world around you?
Are they comfortable?
And removed just enough from reality,
That the truth is easy to overlook?
Are they expensive, those seats?
Do they all come with blinders and a bible?
Or do you pay extra for that?
When someone gets lost and ends up in your row,
Are you quick to call security?
Pointing out the reasons why he or she or they don’t belong…
Do you stay quiet when you see the abuse or the inequality?
Because it doesn’t directly impact you…
Or maybe take a bite of your burger or a sip of your beer and pretend you didn’t see?
Do the colors make you nervous?
All the red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple, black…
Or is it the clothes?
Skirts too short or on the wrong person.
Bra straps or braless.
Hoodies or hats.
Too tight, too loose, too not you…
Tell me what it is that causes you to remain in your seat.
Your nice comfy seat surrounded by like-minded beings…
Do you truly not see, hear, or feel the cries, the hurt, the fear… the love?
Leaving that seat won’t end you, my friend…
It might actually make you human
Tori Burris Inkley
2 Replies to “Your Seat”
Tori, This is an amazing poem. Please consider submitting it to Geez Magazine or Sojourner’s magazine.
I don’t know those. Are they Googleable? (Is that a word?) Or can you send links?