Black Tuesday

It was like a dream,
Suffering filled to the brim,
The voice of the youths woke
Chants echo the street,
Flags flew above the sky like butterflies
The blue cloud gazed at our heads like siren.

We raised our fist against brutality
My tongue spat out the truth
Every bit of my blood sought peace
Our thoughts were filled with hopes,
Shelved with crowded laws
The wings of the constitution shields the guilty.

Feets matching like the sun
And tears flew into the sea,
The smoke of my birth isn’t dry
Politicians fill promises in baskets
Thus burying our hopes in caskets
When placard never silenced our nostril.

Blows rained on my body
And bullets penetrated my heart
Clean and sweet is my death
That I was not a repentant terrorist
Call me not an hoodlum!
Not an herdsman that craves for blood.

I slept for the thirst of justice
Not the governing of demonic ancestors
Or the powers of “Bullion van of Bourdillon”
My struggle echoes in pepole’s hearts
Respiration and inspiration sing the praises of a warrior
I pass death with the dying and beginning of justice.

#ENDPOLICEBRUTALITY