To #BothamJean
A man was shot,
A man was killed.
A person was,
A person he,
That now is gone,
And is no more.
Dead is a man,
Dead is a person,
A person full of life,
A person filled with vision,
Expecting their next moment,
Hoping to get by,
To live a dream,
Like any other.
It could be you,
It could be me,
It could be someone,
It could be anyone.
Or can it now?
A person is dead,
A person he was,
A person like any other,
Respected.
Loved.
Missed.
A black man,
An innocent man.
How can this be?
How could this happen?
Why does this happen?
To the black of society?
Enraged I am,
By this tragedy.
Shots of white fire,
In their own home,
Murder it's called,
Last I recall?
For what reason?
What could it be?
There is no reason,
There was no cause,
For this to happen,
For blood to spill needlessly,
For life to end so suddenly.
Where is justice?
Will it come?
Or another salvo of hypocrisy?
A shift of responsibility?
Their words exude like smoke,
Full of deliberate excuse.
Their statements like mirrors,
Propped up to deflect the light.
The darkness lurks within,
Hiding in the depths,
Waiting for a moment,
To pass unscathed.
How many lives are taken?
By absurd inadequacy,
By intentional prejudice,
Or lust for death?
The words they speak,
They speak for themselves.
They say one thing,
But mean another.
They act one way,
But do another.
They show one face,
But hide another.
They echo sentiment,
But wish another,
Another ending,
One that forgets.
I am a simple poet,
My words are not complex,
My phrases crafted plainly,
With them I tell a truth,
A truth some may hate to hear,
A bitterness that some may know,
A coldness that grips the heart.
I could be wrong,
In what I say.
I could be blunt,
In what I write.
The monsters of endless criticism,
Are always near,
To pounce and rip,
To maim and blame,
To tear and slice,
Apart my soul,
For all these lines.
Yet honest my intentions are,
No matter how loud the screams and shouts,
No matter how many the spits and blows,
My thoughts are mourning,
My empathy is grieving,
My feelings are with you,
For such a loss,
Is a tragedy.
A man was shot,
A man was killed.
A person was,
A person he,
That now is gone,
And is no more.
Dead is a man,
Dead is a person,
A person full of life,
A person filled with vision,
Expecting their next moment,
Hoping to get by,
To live a dream,
Like any other.
It could be you,
It could be me,
It could be someone,
It could be anyone.
Or can it now?
A person is dead,
A person he was,
A person like any other,
Respected.
Loved.
Missed.
A black man,
An innocent man.
How can this be?
How could this happen?
Why does this happen?
To the black of society?
Enraged I am,
By this tragedy.
Shots of white fire,
In their own home,
Murder it's called,
Last I recall?
For what reason?
What could it be?
There is no reason,
There was no cause,
For this to happen,
For blood to spill needlessly,
For life to end so suddenly.
Where is justice?
Will it come?
Or another salvo of hypocrisy?
A shift of responsibility?
Their words exude like smoke,
Full of deliberate excuse.
Their statements like mirrors,
Propped up to deflect the light.
The darkness lurks within,
Hiding in the depths,
Waiting for a moment,
To pass unscathed.
How many lives are taken?
By absurd inadequacy,
By intentional prejudice,
Or lust for death?
The words they speak,
They speak for themselves.
They say one thing,
But mean another.
They act one way,
But do another.
They show one face,
But hide another.
They echo sentiment,
But wish another,
Another ending,
One that forgets.
I am a simple poet,
My words are not complex,
My phrases crafted plainly,
With them I tell a truth,
A truth some may hate to hear,
A bitterness that some may know,
A coldness that grips the heart.
I could be wrong,
In what I say.
I could be blunt,
In what I write.
The monsters of endless criticism,
Are always near,
To pounce and rip,
To maim and blame,
To tear and slice,
Apart my soul,
For all these lines.
Yet honest my intentions are,
No matter how loud the screams and shouts,
No matter how many the spits and blows,
My thoughts are mourning,
My empathy is grieving,
My feelings are with you,
For such a loss,
Is a tragedy.