Monday 9 March 2015

Stop Killing My Black Man

Stop Killing My Black Man

Posted FB 14th December 


Twisted Mouths
I put my hand up so he could see
I wasn’t packing
the only crime I had committed
was being Black-IN
the wrong place
at the wrong time
Historically this has been the case
For all the Africans that were captured
and exported
where all their dreams have been aborted
I put my hands up and said
‘I can’t breathe!’
trying desperately to persuade
the officer to let me go
let me be free
he said
I owed him
A debt I had been born into
If we wouldn’t work for free
there was a taxation
of human beings
No! This could not be true
I looked back historically
he was right
it was late at night
normally in the South
where Black men
would swing from Poplar Trees
‘burning flesh and
with twisted mouths’