And love says, “I will, I will take care of you,”

This house is your house,

from California,

to the New York island,

this house was built,

for you and me.

When the people came marching,

and we were singing,

and the gas was stinging,

this house was made for you and me.

When the soldiers came swinging,

and the tears were running,

we all remembered,

the slaves had built this,

they built it for you and for me,

As we came marching, we saw a church there,

the fences were taller, the noise was louder,

 In the shadow of the steeple,

our people were running.

Police were

charging.

as the fog was lifting,

We saw a blue suit,

and it was scowling,

and the Bible was waving,

and all around me,

 a voice was chanting,

“This house was made for you and me”

And love said, “I will, I will take care of you,

and everything that is near.”

Do not be fearful,

they cannot  stop us,

As we go walking

that freedom highway,

nothing  can make us turn away now,

In the shadow of that steeple,

I saw my people

“This big old house was made for you and me.”

As we came closer, we saw a sign there,

it said “no trespass”

“This house does not belong to you,“

and all around us,

we heard a voice say, 

“I will, I will take care of you.”

 

-Thanks to Woody Guthrie, an American hero who will never be in the new National Garden Of American Heroes,  and Hafi.

This poem is dedicated to Morgan, who came to the White House on June 1, 2020, in a wheelchair to support the demonstrators marching to protest the death of George Floyd.

She is 77 years old and was temporarily blinded by the gas-fired by federal police.

She was struggling to breathe, and protesters pushed her wheelchair away from the White House and she was taken to a local hospital where she remained for two days.

Nobody knows or is saying where she is today. I know the odds are long, but I hope someone will get this poem to her.