Nolan had gotten up early that day. This was unusual enough in itself.
He had grabbed the bag lying on his desk chair. He had only decided to leave a few hours earlier. He had resolved to do it
...
[+]
I hear blood
families crying over a loved one’s
slain body in the street
The sirens are distant
but close enough to see
the strobing red, intimidating blue
I hear recognition
the colors wane as They realize
that They’re rounding into
the Negro neighborhood
I hear tomorrow’s headline
“Black on Black Violence
(so why riot about police brutality?)”
but that’s only if this life
is deemed newsworthy
I hear acceptance
feet shuffle from the scene
though I have some life left in me