After the Grand Jury

What if I premptively cut out my womb
wrapped it in a blanket and left it at the nearest precinct
In a little wicker basket with a letter written in my own blood
What if you had one less black child to kill
Would you spare the rest
Would you let us live

What if I cut out my heart
laid it on the altar surrounded by sacred flame
And prayed the rosary every day for the rest of my life
Jesus, would you still love me
Would you accept my sacrifice
Would you save us from the fire

What if I cut down our killers
drew out their insides for all to see
What if my kin weren’t the only ones hanging from the poplar trees
What was it we all were waiting for
Not justice not peace
Not when they cut us off from the knees

Rise Up
Set It Off
Rage More
Watch It Burn

Maybe then they will learn
Maybe then they will see
Our blood is just as red as theirs
And our tears just as salty

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About fenifuego

Just trying to make sense of myself and the world.
This entry was posted in art, life, social justice and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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