Eyes Open

The men decide to come at me-

A badge, a whispered threat.

So many move around to see-

A sudden deep regret.

My hijab sends a panicked sign-

Religion sets the tone.

A plane takes off that once was mine-

I'm stuck; now it is gone.

The men have placed me in a room,

My children start to cry.

"Do you have bombs to make a boom?

Do you want us to die?"

I try and tell them who I am,

And that they have it wrong.

Instead, they offer to me, "Ma'am,

You need to play along.

The thing atop your head tells us

A terrorist is near.

Now, don't you try and make a fuss-

We want to make it clear-

The color of your skin defines

A nation of unrest."

My daughter's and my son's designs

Are beauty at its best.

I stand and ask what right have they

To hold us from the plane.

The men have little else to say,

The whole thing starts to drain.

At last my husband joins us there,

But they treat him the same.

They ruffle up his velvet hair;

They do not ask his name.

They confiscate a "weapon" in

A pocket- plastic fork.

They say, "Where are your people, then?"

He says, "We're from New York!"

About this time, the questions stop;

A white male with a gun

Unloads it on us- pop! Pop! POP!

We have nowhere to run.

Injustice never seems to fade-

But look at what they do-

Remember terror knows no shade,

Be free, Red, White, and Blue ...