George Floyd, justice

BLACK DON’T CRACK

They say black don’t crack
but his neck did crack
when a knee was bent
on a strong black neck.

In an unofficial act,
a figure of authority,
hand on the holster,
bolstering on a minority,
in an act of superiority.

The man lying on the street,
accepting his feat,
saying, ‘I can’t breathe’
Because black don’t crack
but my will did when a mother’s son was killed
by a man called to serve.
Now the only thing he will serve
is time in a cell unreserved.

Black still don’t crack,
even when the whip does.
Those lives will continue to matter
through wounds and bruises
as the sirens try to drown out,
Black Lives Matter!

People always fear what they don’t understand
but you are brave enough to take a stand.
Marching through the streets,
chanting , ‘Black Lives Matter!’

I don’t know who gets madder,
the man holding the gun in his hand
or the one on the other end.

And when they cracked the whip on your father’s dark skin,
remember yesterday your kin was lying in the street,
unable to breathe
Now today you’re here,
breathing for him.

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