Wednesday, August 13, 2014

Imagination- A Poem for Michael Brown

I can only imagine
what its like to be
watched
feared
seen as a threat
when i walk
when i drive
when i go to school
Never knowing
when i will be
stopped
searched
thrown on the ground
or when words that
I say
and gestures that I
make
can lead to my
death

2 comments:

  1. Finish the crackers - grab a smoke...
    of Ferguson my muse will sing.
    A call to arms - God's fires to stoke;
    let Truth and Freedom ring !

    Take to the streets; avenge this wrong
    and hasten the end of racist rule.
    Justice, though it may tarry long
    will find its target in the duel.

    Young Michael Brown, like all true saints
    found himself craving Swisher Sweets.
    He robbed a store, whose camera paints
    impartial portrait. In the streets

    the thief refused to be detained
    and so threw off police restraint.
    Though sin escaped, the Law remained
    and made a martyr of this saint.

    The agitators did their thing:
    inflaming thugs to smash and loot,
    while racists baited hooks, to string
    the press. Officials followed suit.

    Angels, although not always kind,
    do not display this attitude -
    aware of how the police mind
    responds to such ingratitude.

    We ought to thank the police force
    for showing mercy under stress.
    The culprit chose a foolish course -
    and made a God-awful mess.

    Prince Michael met ignoble fate
    (that ghetto-Christ, that righteous youth)
    His sacrifice in vain - though great,
    could not impede the march of Truth.

    Ferguson, our eyes turn towards you...
    are you now able to admit
    while reality rewards you
    that stealing and lying ain't shit?

    ReplyDelete