A feeble dirge
A war
Skin tones wage
Dark demands
Whitewashed
Mothers paid
To stop crying
Some days
Feel like nights
Some walk
Looking for a bridge
A bridge too far
To cross over
Not standing
For one thought
Not doing
One damn thing
While we did nothing
And while we made love
A cop killed
Somebody black
I’m sure of that
A truth exists
Arriving to leave
They always have
When they
Get killed
They get shot
Or choked
They mumble
And pull
To leap for
Their escape
And drown
In the whiteness
Of the land
And its laws
A war
Skin tones wage
Dark demands
Whitewashed
But there is
A dream
Of valleys
Hills and plains
A hope
And I’ll end there