My wish

I wish I was not born white; If not, I would make aware my brother’s and sister’s plight.

I was almost born dead, the umbilical was wrapped around my head.

In the womb I was almost killed with a noose; If I were black, all terror would have been loose.

The terror of birth in the womb, then straight to the tomb.

A society of population control, running toward an early grave.

A band of miscreants enthralled, voting to remain enslaved.

Seven-hundred dead in Chicago in November alone.

Massive chains dragging souls, cursed by the stone.

Change will arrive when the community is truly outraged.

Gone are the days of sympathy and pity.

Now are the days of justice and death.

You sowed the seeds of death and despair.

Black Lives Matter when there is no thought of the innocent slain in the womb.

Cursed is your generation and those after.

Fix your own house before you try to fix your neighbour’s.


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