A Poem

By LAILA SWINGLE

Love,
he had for his black and white brothers.
Love sounds like singing.
Love does not sound like chains or slaves crying.
But like people chained together with black and white hands.
And people crying for happiness.
Crying out:
“Free at last. Free at last.
Thank God Almighty
I am free at last.”

Laila Swingle is a fourth grader at Beverly J. Martin Elementary in Ithaca, New York

Martin-Luther-King-1964-leaning-on-a-lectern
PHOTO: Library of Congress