Native
Interwoven cotton-made roses
Line her back
While leggings cover that which is no secret
Coffee runs down her throat
Like it was made for that
Golden fingers wrap around
A mug that holds the
Aerial beans that were grown in the
Mist-filled jungle of Guatemala
And harvested with
Hands that are ill treated
But, why would you care
The blood on your hands
Isn’t really on your hands, right?
I mean according to this country
Which was
Built on the
Lack of regard
For those who are
Native
I was just sitting outside of Starbucks waiting for somebody and I was inspired to write this little piece. I'm not hating on Starbucks at all by writing this piece, but it just struck me all of a sudden, that eventhough we know and have heard about how poorly the people, that work in coffee fields for most major corporations, are treated, we still go there and buy coffee, simply because it is so inundated in our culture.
