Depths of Insanity (Welcome to my Mind)

Not In Birmingham

This short poem is about a different perspective of one of the characters in "Ballad to Birmingham," written by Dudley Randall. He wrote his poem about a true event that occurred during the civil rights movement. "Dudley Randall first published "Ballad of Birmingham" in 1965. The poem was written in response to the bombing of the 16th Street Baptist Church in Birmingham, Alabama, which had a predominantly Black congregation and was targeted by white supremacists on September 15, 1963. Four young Black girls were killed in the explosion, and 22 other congregants were injured. This attack was set against the backdrop of the Civil Rights Movement and the efforts of leaders like Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. to end segregation in the United States and, more specifically, in southern states like Alabama. As the title suggests, the poem is a , meaning that it uses and an ABCB ." Reference- 

Ballad of Birmingham Poem Summary and Analysis | LitChartsBallad of Birmingham Poem Summary and Analysis | LitCharts. (2021). Retrieved 31 July 2021, from https://www.litcharts.com/poetry/dudley-randall/ballad-of-birmingham

                                                       "Not in Birmingham"

I really wanted to march in the street.

But Momma said no because of the danger.

I can still smell the rose petals, oh how sweet.

When I see a white man in a suit with a face full of anger.

He carries something small and made of metal in his hand.

Then he sets it down inside the church on the floor.

He leaves the church in a hurry, and I begin to slowly stand,

I try to make my way to the door.

I wonder why he left this here and why it is making a beeping sound.

I turn to see if any adult is nearby to be found.

So I can show them this thing that man left us.

And so they can turn it off and stop all the ruckus.

Then all of a sudden, there is a flash of light.

Painfully my ears begin to ring violently.

I fall down and lose my sight.

The next thing I know, I can hear the angels sing.

I open my eyes, amazed to see.

A beautiful angel looking at me.

Confused, I rub my eyes with my pure white-gloved hand.

Wondering just where I am.

I look for Momma, but she is not there.

I call out to her as loud as I can.

A man tells me, "My child, do not be scared."

"You are in the house of the Lord, not in Birmingham."

"Your Momma will be here soon, but until then, I will take care of you."

"Would you like to play with three of your friends? They are all here too."

Then it all comes back to me about that scary man.

And the metal thing he had in his hand.

It was a bomb that had gone off and killed us four.

We never made it out the door.

I sit here and patiently wait.

For my Momma to enter that big pearly gate.