There once was a town by the name of Bicycle
It's land was large and it's weather quite fickle.
The people of the town were of four different kinds
With unique ideas and individual minds.
Some were black, some were red, some were sharp, some were round
Each divided by the railway along the ground.
This rail made a cross, splitting the city apart
Into four sections named Club, Diamond, Spade, and Heart.
Despite the division, they got along quite well,
Able to trade back and forth, to buy and to sell.
When arguments arose, they were handled with ease
With respect and politeness, with thank you and please.
But slowly conflict was being seen more and more
As fights started to poison the town's very core.
Across the rails they argued. The town rang with shouts.
Few people even knew what they argued about.
The divide didn't stop, growing slowly then fast
With two groups rising up like the sail on a mast.
Differences long hidden became clear when they said,
"Color now matters. Either you're wrong or you're red!"
The diamonds and hearts, who were once noble and brave
Traded in honor and made their neighbor their slave.
The clubs and the spades were forced to work in the field,
Left to doubt if this divide might ever be healed.
The town and it's people grew further apart still
As those who were once free worked against their own will.
"Enough is enough," some slowly started to shout.
"If we aren't given freedom, we'll fight our way out!"
And so between the town, The Color War was fought
Where at the cost of many lives, freedom was bought.
While the side of equality thought they had won,
Few realized that this war was far from being done.
Laws were emplaced and new legislation was signed,
But a past full of hatred is hard to unwind.
The violence in the streets split the town even more.
The people seemed unable to settle the score.
Until one fateful day, when from Spade came a King
Who spoke to all who would hear the message he'd bring
With lightning in his words and thunder in his voice,
He proclaimed, "Violence can no longer be our choice!"
Love each and every color, give justice to all
Became the foundation of every altar call.
And oh how all the masses were moved and were swayed.
Maybe, just maybe, the town might finally be saved.
But even this King could not bring all together
The scars in this town seemed to go on forever.
The young Spade King wasn't immune to the sniper
Who with his bullet told King to pay the piper.
"He was our savior!" they cried. "What will we do now?"
"Without the Spade King's wisdom, to whom will we bow?"
The town needed a leader. Yes, this much was true,
But as for who could be next, no one had a clue.
They waited and wondered as to who it might be,
Unsure if they waited for a he or a she.
People remained inside their segregated groups,
It seemed none would address the towns own troubled roots.
"Forget the past," they said. "Let's move on and move soon."
So they started by flying a man to the moon.
"More progress," they said, "We will keep moving forward.
We'll buy a new future. It's what we can afford."
In the name of progress, the town tried to move on,
But underneath, tension kept growing right along.
The clubs and the spades tried to earn their own power,
But they stayed locked out of the ivory tower.
The strength of democracy remained with the red,
Until a new king from Club came forward and said,
"Our city needs hope. Together we can change
And move forward to a new time, a better age."
The Clubs and the Spades at once rallied around him,
Even some Diamonds and Hearts began to join them.
Their only wish was that he could've come sooner
To The Colorless House, the home of the ruler.
"A king from Club?" some said. "Oh, I've seen it all now."
"But tell me, will he save us? And better yet, how?"
The doubters and haters were anything but few,
Yet most remained eager to follow someone new.
The change this new king brought was both steady and swift,
And to many he felt like an undeserved gift.
However, none saw the fate awaiting this town
Because tension ignored never fully goes down.
"Each promise he makes," some said, "will never come true."
"At least he tries," others said. "What more can he do?"
They bickered and argued over this king's rating
Not knowing hate unaddressed won't be kept waiting.
On the surface, freedom seemed possible for all
But from inside, the city was now doomed to fall
Slowly and surely the town felt the division
As new cuts opened like a surgeon's incision.
Violence at once seemed to overrun every street,
Clubs, Diamonds, Hearts, and Spades refused to even meet.
Law no longer mattered. No one knew who to trust.
Hatred of differences seemed to fill all with lust.
In the middle of this, the king still tried to reign,
But it seemed as if no one would think with their brain.
Red fought with black, even the old with the younger,
As anger became an insatiable hunger.
Then one day from out of town a new leader came
Speaking his mind, despite having a funny name.
"Listen up all," he said, "You can call me Rekoj."
"I'm here to save you from this terrible wreckage."
Loud and arrogant, Rekoj tried to shout and yell
For all to hear the story he came to tell.
He spoke against everyone, both the red and black,
For the sharpness of tongue he did not seem to lack.
He constantly threatened his enemies with jail,
Ignoring anyone who dared say he would fail.
Time and again, what he said got him in trouble,
But nothing seemed quite able to burst his bubble.
"He cannot be serious," some started to claim.
"He's only after more of his fortune and fame."
So most ignored him, though he continued to speak,
And slowly more people listened, week after week.
Despite his divisiveness and unruly tone,
The seed of sedition was still steadily sown.
The masses ignored him, but the voters did not
Yet many were still shocked by lot that they got.
"Rekoj is king? This must be the end of us all."
"Our town is now finished. We have lived our last Fall."
Protestors grew loud and shouted, "He's not my king!"
But denial did nothing, nor peace did it bring.
It seemed clear to this town that was so divided
That with this new king their fate had been decided.
"What difference does it make?" the clubs and spades all said
"The way we have been treated, we're as good as dead."
Even the diamonds and hearts felt their own worry.
"Maybe we should stop voting in such a hurry."
The fearfulness of all brought progress to a halt,
As people fought over who to blame and to fault.
Town meetings became full of hatred and yelling,
And Rekoj smiled as these meetings were quite telling
Of the influence he so consistently had.
He was clearly driving the town completely mad.
Change seemed unlikely until a meeting one day
When a small man with the name Deuce rose from the fray.
He spoke softly at first and with a slight quiver,
But then his voice grew wings and gave all a shiver.
"Now I don't speak too good, so please cut me some slack
And hear me if I may speak to both red and black.
I know my stature is short and my age quite young,
But listen, I beg, to the idea I've now brung.
"We've always had leaders, both the good and the great
But all failed to prevent this unfortunate state.
They all surely helped us a lot, don't get me wrong,
But I think our fate's been up to us all along.
"This railroad divides us all. It's as plain as day.
We need to get rid of it. There's no other way."
At this, some eyes rolled and grumbles started to rise.
"No way!" shouted one. "That's at least a thousand ties."
"You speak true," responded Deuce. "There's work to be done.
But as long as we're like this we'll never be one.
Kings have brought us together, and split us apart,
But this structure has hindered us from the very start
"We must get rid of this thing that's deeply ingrained,
When we work together, think of all to be gained.
This isn't a job for just one, it's for us all,
The black and red, young and old, the short and the tall."
No one inside the crowd spoke, not even a sound,
So Deuce continued on, as more courage he found.
"I'm done acting like this is the hand we've been dealt,
We can live full lives if more empathy was felt.
"Rekoj is in charge, and yes, I'm as scared as you,
Yet we act as if chaos is something brand new,
But as a child, and even now I'm fully grown
It's clear chaos is all this town has ever known.
"There will never be peace in this forsaken land
Until we learn to give others a helping hand.
Color don't matter. All that matters is you.
Let's make this the land of the free, home of the true."
Deuce stopped, deciding there wasn't much more to say,
Then stepped down from stage and started to lead the way.
The people followed, not sure where he was going,
Though most had an idea, or a sense of knowing.
For Deuce led them straight to the fabled railway track
And at once started to beat, to pull, and and to whack
Until finally one tie came loose from the others,
All while the crowd looked on like hesitant lovers.
Deuce pulled this tie out and moved it far from the rail,
Then continued to work with hands that didn't fail.
Suddenly someone, a different color than Deuce,
Stepped up and began to pull another tie loose.
One by one, others joined in to each lend a hand,
As a change began to sweep all across the land.
The difficult work was accomplished with a smile,
The people wishing they had done this all the while.
The work wasn't easy, and at time they got stuck,
But they pressed on together, ignoring bad luck.
As day after day they pulled to loosen old ties,
The people started to see themselves with new eyes
"Why do we insist on fighting, black versus red?"
"We're not all that different," a person named Jack said.
"You're right," said another Jack of different color,
"So what if we weren't all born from the same mother?"
All worked together, ignoring color and look
It seemed that some tolerance was all that it took.
Everyone was working, doing all they could do
As the once thousands of ties became just a few
It was several days after the job was begun
That the last tie was pulled and division was done.
The railway was gone and lines finally were crossed,
Different colors spoke now, making up for time lost.
It isn't always easy. Arguments still rise.
But with every new conflict comes thoughts of old ties.
With grace and forgiveness, hatred and anger dies,
And understanding and peace are now on the rise.
The city of Bicycle still stands to this day,
What its future holds is for anyone to say.
The people still continue to try their own way
To give love to all, who knows, some day they just may.