The Capitol Building (Creative Writing)


When I was first painted holding the basket of cotton on my head, with my left hand, in the mural Sharecroppers I thought I’d found peace in the Capitol building. There I stood for years wearing a long white dress and red bandanna for all to see.

Although something that old has seen a thing or two, I didn’t know anything could top the fire started by the British in 1814, until that group of “patriotic roustabouts” stormed it’s doors on January 6, 2021.

Around 1:10 PM I heard a lot of noise on the steps, when those so-called “rioters”, argued and fought with the police. Now I realize as a African-American sharecropper with no school learning that I’m not in a position to judge but as a long-timer of the Capitol building I am. So here goes… whatever beef those people had with the government or the country they needed to find a more peaceful way to say their piece. Since they can vote, they could’ve voted likewise in the last election, or even have complained in private, to their friends and family.

From 1:26 PM, when the Library of Congress was evacuated by the police force to 2:11 PM when rioters climbed the walls our reputation sank and we were never the same. A snake had entered our garden of Eden and we were scarred forever.

Beauty is Still Beauty

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