Not a dandy, who conjured, contrast
But a souvenir, of the history’s stain
On American streets, struts, a dice cast
In a gamble of, prejudice profane!
Amid motley mobs, a monochrome satire
Bares the vanity, of the shame, of skin
“It ain’t black grace, baptized by fire
If it still succumbs, to a fear, deep within!”
An enigma, beyond a name
A heir, of an, unlived dream
How estranged, one ethos, became
In the strata of, democratic scheme!
How can, ever die, that pilgrimage
From oblivion, to ethnic blight
In white chicanery, black dream’s outrage
The Curious Case, Of Mr. White!
© 2018 Vikas Chandra