Ferguson, USA

ferguson1

I was walking alone down a city street the other day,

I didn’t have to dodge rubber bullets along the way.

 

One afternoon while the sun shone bright across the sky,

Bicycles and para-sails wafted freely without asking why.

 

When I wake up in the morning I will drive on a road,

Without ever-wondering why I’m stopped and not told.

 

I’ve heard there is a cause to fight for the loss of a young man,

But tonight, I’m afraid we only seem to care about ‘the man.’

 

If you stop to tell me that he was shot to death in cold blood,

I’ll look you in the eye and remind you I no longer care to flood

 

My mind with realistic reasons to have a violent time at night.

I just want to use his death to further my desire to give slight

 

To what it is our authority is trying so hard to ascertain.

That’s not to say a skeptical eye toward you I will maintain,

 

You the man, the one that stands in the way of my free walk home,

You the man, the one when race is spoken, you ring in our tome.

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