Mrs. Smith
English 11th
31 August 2016
Rosewood, Florida
At Rosewood, there used to be roses,
Lighting up the colored houses.
I used to look at them, on my way after school.
When winter came after the fall,
It didn’t have to get dismal,
Because we knew they would come again,
Growing from their seeds, helped by the rain.
On the 5th January 1923,
None of us kids went to school
Last night, white men from the nearby town,
Had indeed come to Rosewood.
We heard the shots, shaking our walls and our hands,
We feared the fierce fire, then we felt the end.
That’s why I was hiding, under the mattresses,
Of my mother’s old bedroom
Because we knew they would come again
Ready to kill, to bring the pain.
I remember staying in silence for