News flash…
Officer involved in shooting…
Suspected robber…
Unarmed black… gunned down…
Sighs…
Tearful eyes.
Hate…
Cruel fate.
Black kid strolling down the street,
Unarmed to his feet;
Shot dead like a dog,
By the nation’s watchdog.
Begged for his life on his knees,
Deaf ears to his pleas.
The real robber ran behind,
They see, yet they’re blind.
It’s on the papers, it’s on the news,
And yet it’s no news;
They’ve got the guns, they’ve got the law,
Backing up their flaw.
Mother weeps, just lost her son;
Bulllet from a gun.
Father mourns, just lost his heir,
To speak, none would dare.
First they made us into slaves,
Now they’re digging our graves.
Dead nephews, dead brothers,
Little babies, no fathers.
Black deaths in decimals,
They treat us like animals;
And when we succumb to our rage,
They lock us up in a cage.
Where’s the love, where’s the unity?
It’s all brutality.
Where’s the joy in all our story?
It’s covered in gory.
Don’t treat us like garbage,
This poem is a message.
We’re not bulls to batter,
Our black lives matter!
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