For Denise McNair
There were people in my family have witnessed
The greatest changes of America
and lived to tell it. This is about a girl who didn’t live
Long enough to truly be helpful in the world but
helped in death. Even today she still lives on in our
hearts.
Denise McNair, the youngest of the group, finally
Had permission to sit with her friends in the middle
Row instead of being in the front. Unlike her Mother,
Maxine McNair, she grew fond of church for its
blind optimism for the world but had no idea
That soon she would be betrayed by it in God’s house.
All they remember was a flash of crimson light,
an explosion, and screams.
All Maxine could think was where was her daughter, calling
All through clouds of dust and blood.
All she found, a ballerina shoe scorched in rubble.
The depressing rage she felt was like a tsunami
drowning everything in sight. The riots occurring
after the bombing were on a large scale and earned a
Name that echoed through history,
The Bombing of Birmingham.
That part of our family tree still smolders in anger cause of
The aflame, glowing branch at the foot of the tree.
Grade: 9
Washington, DC
Washington, DC
JK Rowling
To be a neuroscientist
My parents