Worthless...

It's gonna rain
It's gonna rain,
You better get ready...
and bear this in mind
God showed Noah on the rainbow's sign
He said it won't be water
But fire next
time

Fire like flame from cannon spit
hot shells shot
hit lil boy not meant for punishment
so severe
lying in a pool of his own life
hopes, dreams pouring out
of his insides
and inside this sick ego tripping
wannabe policeman racially motivated
murderer
there is no conscience...
same as the legal system which supported
this institutionally justified homicide
same as the six culturally insensitive females
that decided bruises on skin of man more akin to them
legalized the killing of a colored child
armed with nothing more than pride
and a bag of candy...
can't be reality-yet it is
black life simply
worthless
having no value or use
despicable

not held in the same regard 

as those of a different hue
not deserving of justice
nor redemption
meaning black life is
less than
a negative factor when entered into any
equation
and thus equating the designation
worthless
so there is no thought of self defense for
a child stalked by man
with ill intent and no authority
to perform any action against
the child's person...
there is no sympathy for a black mother
who identifies the screams of her child
as truth...her truth denied as a lie
there is no question raised to a perpetrator's
actions simply because he feared for his life...
as if the black child did not, but since his life worth less
than it is fair that he died
Justice it all seems to be
to a society
centered on moving past apologies
of atrocities of the past
past legislative policies that address inequalities
masked as discrimination to the majority
past urban school systems that work
past equal pay for equal work
past decisions that cast doubt upon
any illusion of progress that an African American may
possess
the election of a president has not changed
the present...
seems we have seen it all before
this acknowledgement of our people's worth
burns our hearts
like crosses on the front lawn
firehoses outside Woolworth's store
broken dreams left lying on hotel balconies
strange fruit hanging from Georgia trees
or the face of a young Emmett Till...before and after
on cover of Jet magazine
we are familiar with this recognition of value
admittance of indifference
and it blankets our community with anxiety
about the future of our children
the lives of little black boys
Priceless...
invaluable in my mind
but fear clouds my thoughts...
how will our babies survive?
and all I see is clouds
praying for our sons
all I see is clouds
praying for the sun
For it rained on Saturday...a mighty storm it
came a falling from the sky
waterdrops fell violently
similar to the tears from my eyes
hush now, they say...rain will pass,
but I ask what happens
when the rain
subsides...?
will we be better
when the fire comes...
next time?