You could stand with both of your palms open,
And insist that you’re human –
Some group…somewhere would say the lines on your hands don’t match theirs.
How sad the world has become:
Black boys and girls plan for the future –
But know it could be cut short.
People all over the world are born and then buried
– passing through this life accustomed to suffering –
News headlines flash non stop
With new names but show old burdens
And cancerous sorrows
Somewhere people can no longer live as if the sky is the limit
Somewhere people can no longer live as if their work of yesterday will carry into tomorrow.
If they’re being shot down on the pavement,
Then plan that parks for families will no longer be necessary
The city has run out of room to resurrect cemeteries