Often times when I drive through a canopy of trees I am reminded of the not so distant pas

Often times when I drive through a canopy of trees I am reminded of the not so distant past and the grim nature of the American Public as they crow with adoration after stringing up yet another negro. It’s like a tradition and once they are done and everyone is good and satisfied with the conditions under which a “lesser” being died, they all stop, and smile, and pose for the camera like a holiday photo. 

Just cover it up, put a white sheet over it, pretend like it never happened, and change the name of the same game.