Standing in front of The Roxxy

Hands cold

Demanding answers

From the security guards


They won’t let my friend into the club

“Because he has dreadlocks”

That’s bologna

He is black


A river of cold tears

Rushing down my face

Jaw dropped, eyes gleaming

This is discrimination


Legs wobbly

I stood

Fighting for my rights

And for my friend’s that night


Frozen on the beige sidewalk

Couldn’t walk away

Though my friends told me to

I had to stay


Words erupting

Like torrential winds

Into the cold, black

Blanket of the night


Eyes swimming

When I realized

The fight was over and

It was time to walk away