I have a question, Officer.
I’ll beg for your reply.
I want to know what happens next
If I begin to cry.
Will my face be pressed to asphalt,
My neck beneath your knee?
And while I gasp, you’ll make the call
If I deserve to breathe?
The Ketamine is coming
Batons in hands take flight
Oh Officer, do you equate
A senseless blow with right?
Walter’s life was a battleground
A fight with his own mind.
Elijah was an introvert
In them myself I find.
And they are dead now, Officer,
Fates chronicled in text.
If I assert, or must break down,
Why shouldn’t I be next?
You say I have no cause to fear
And I know why: I’m white
But race, Sir, is a worthless tool
Souls lie beyond mere sight.
My mental wails are wild
I mourn for, every day,
Elijah’s, Walter’s life-force
Your fellows stripped away
These tears stem not from guilt but fear
That though I’m in the right
Innocence is overlooked
By those who abuse might.
I’ll comply with you, Officer,
I say, I know my rights
Still I feel there’s no guarantee
That I’ll live through the night.