Street corner looking men huddle By the warmth of their PC screens Deciphering the cryptic lexicon of tomorrow. Lifting their oppressed people Beyond the complacency Of the 15 second sound bite. Their words exit with authority And if you were blind to the world You'd swear you were at Harvard Or Oxford. But you turn to look With eyes preconditioned for condemnation And see a black man. You turn And all that dignity Fades into the images of chaos, Poverty, and murder. His voice is pure and true to logic You fight to keep him on that pedestal. A battle against hundreds and thousands Of corrupt voices In history and today. That deny this reality And speak only of crack babies, And the dull thud of a revolver. But there is one, Then another and another And all around you're surrounded by A desire for knowledge. If only C-Span covered the people and not the corporate puppets. What world would we live in If America was only exposed to the hope That was emerging from our schools.
Reason for writing:
Libra
Birth sign: Not entered
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View more poems by Grigorii Romashko--Libra.