Saddened that this poem I wrote after the death of Trayvon Martin is running through my mind again today.
Hunger an illusion,
Of the bodies changing place.
The plants again are sprouting,
The fingers spread for grace.
Your privilege, an illusion,
Your strut will take you down.
Injustice in the present,
Will be an empty, long lost sound.
Imagine that day you stand before me,
Your gun, your pride in hand.
My eyes, your eyes in clutches,
A take, just take your stand.
But on this day there’s justice,
My eyes, your eyes in hand.
Fingers spreading fingers,
Arms and arms we stand.
And on this day there’s justice,
Light and darkness stand.
Join together one in one,
Color, child, and man.