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Injustice

Day by day passes by, 

people suffer,

they wonder why?

Why them, why now?

Fathers thought the old days were gone,

Of selling heroin,

on a nickel or a dime,

to earn their family time. 

He walks down the sidewalk, 

and knows his life is in danger, 

he checks both shoulders and prays, 

When will this all stop?

He hears guns go pop, pop, pop, 

and shutters, 

Dear Lord, 

please,

 not today. 

He remembers, 

Albert, 

his dear friend,

who put his life on the line, 

and for what, 

a nickel and a dime? 

To be stabbed in the chest, 

over nine times, 

and with no fighting chance, 

to dance, 

with his beloved wife, Sara. 

His thoughts drift, 

My baby girl is dying, 

feasting off of bread and water. 

What am I to do?

She tears up at the thought, 

Will this be the last meal, 

last love you, 

last breath?

She digs deep inside, 

her pain filled heart,

and says if I can just make money,  

for fruit and honey, 

my family will smile again.
She sacrifices her body,

over and over again,

until men and women of both kinds are satisfied,

She lays her head down to sleep,

her body smelling

 of stinking, rotting sweat, 

her breasts, 

twisted and tired, 

her vagina,

 teased and tugged,

 by self-indulged hate. 

Why didn’t I wait, 

Why didn’t I wait, 

Why didn’t I wait,

she prayed,

for mama to come home,  

to rub my back, 

and lay me down to sleep.

She  lies awake consuls herself, 

and says I did my best,

I did my best, 

I did my best. 

She worries not now about the rest, 

for tomorrow,

she will put on her Sunday best,

and will hide the sins,

 upon her stained-stilled chest.  

People shout: 

we want freedom, 

we want freedom,

we want freedom, 

from it all.  

Liberty from

poverty mentality, 

systemic racism, 

religious based laws. 

Freedom to 

live fearless

vote fairly, 

educate properly,

work ethically.

Freedom to celebrate 

creativity,

diversity,

equality.  

We want to be seen

for who we truly are, 

brothers and sisters in Christ, 

not for the criminal master minds,

 you think we are.

Viewed as blessed regardless of our skin color 

or all the rest.

We want to be remembered, 

as angels not demons, 

peacemakers not war creators, 

friends not foes,  

family members not trouble makers. 

We want to be free.