Cleo curled up on the rainbow-coloured beanbag next to her mom's desk. It had been bad enough when she had to go back to school to finish out the term after Dad's accident. But adding insult to ... [+]
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