American Neighbors

American Neighbors

You are not required to like me,
  You are not obliged to thank me,
But you are encouraged, God bless the right,
  That you might, the least, requite me

I am the boy in the girls room stall,
Asking that I might be loved,
  Though I may never bear a womb

I am the latin in your school home room,
Only asking ‘me dejas aprender,’
  Not fearing deportation soon

I am the woman with my wife,
The man who’s husband bears your strife,
  Whom you lie tactfully to your kids about

I am the black who’s your new boss,
I’m the woman whom you sit across from,
  How is it you make more than me?

Perhaps I’m odd, not in your style,
Yet must you set you set my bar so high,
   To keep me broke, awaiting trial?

Your ancestors, once too were new,
Though proud, were told, need not apply,
   When were they white-washed clean for you?

We’re in the house abuts your land,
  We whom you use to fear and mock,
If should you need a neighbor’s hand, 
  Would you want my door also be locked?