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(For The Kids We Let Die)
What used to be
A little puddle run
To you and me
Became a winter pond
For children to have fun;
Slip sliding to the tomb,
Blind to what they were to
Succumb:-
Now here we sit, in watering
Bereavement;
Having failed to teach awareness
Achievement:-
What if our ancestors—who had less time
To sit around and rest—
Had not taken time out to teach us to survive
Oppression’s teasing tests?
Let us ever be mindful that the navels we keloid
Along our blessed way,
Are the future of our arrival to the yet truly delayed
Emancipation day!
