Dear Brother,


Now I don’t mean to be misperceived, because I’m white and you are black, it’s something we all can see.

Clearly we have separate cultures and live separate lives, but today we stand face to face, as though we are on opposing sides.


But that’s not me and that’s not you.


We were born into a society that fights consistently, without weakening its roar.

But I’m resurfacing confidently, without shame, and I won’t listen to those people anymore.


I’ll concede that our country doesn’t always treat all of its citizens well, but to conflict that, you shouldn’t condemn all white people to Hell.

Nobody deserves to be shot by our protectors, you’re right, but you can’t always trace it back to me just because I’m white.


There’s just too large of a distance between you and me, we have to bridge the gap slowly but surely.

One by one, piece by piece, we’ll have to teach love rather than hostility.

Too little moderates, and too many radicals, there’s nobody here to connect the dots between our ideologies.

We need to accept one another for who we are, and the disparities will weaken.

Diversity is good, but if we emphasize it too heavily, we cannot integrate ourselves into any of the same categories.

Divided, we have fallen, but united, we can rise.


Today I look across this rumbling chasm, aiming my eyes down into the depths of uncertainty.

I lift my head up to see you, a black young man at the edge of his society.

I look down to your hands, which are gripping a hammer and a box of nails.

You point your head, lightly gesturing, at my feet, where there is a sheet of wood.

I pick it up.


We begin.


This poem is about: 
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741