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It got peaceful once,
on a cold day...we held hands to stay warm.
But have yanked our arms away pulling fingers out of the socket.
We used to smile at each other singing songs and chanting "Justice!"
No longer did we have to lace the perimeter with peppers and salts,
confusing the dogs trained to rip the flesh from our limbs,
but those days are long gone.
No Malcolm to teach us, no Martin to preach hope,
just confused children, marching in the street.
Searching for justice, screaming "f*ck the police!"
and it seemed to me no one cared, they justified the murders,
creating excitement when they said no indictment.
And it happened once, twice, three, and four times.
Like an order was given, but those souls have risen,
and are recruiting those left to avenge the lost world.
Avenge the murder of the dead little girl,
who fell asleep on her couch, should have been in the bed,
but I can't figure out why he shot her, point blank in the head.
And they weren't concerned about our cries,
evil is not synonymous to black.
They didn't understand our plea until one of us
shot back.
Love begets love, and hate begets hate.
There is no justification
but now they relate.
A war outside, and this is a fact.
casualties; collateral damage
when someone shot back.
