The failed struggle of our forefathers has caught up with me.
We all wanted equality, the pursuit of happiness and ******* liberty.
We went up from being slaves, negros, black and now dead - we are endangered species.
Today he was killed by the cold white hand of the one behind the badge, who swore to some like called an oath to serve and protect everyone but the black man.
To them he's just another tragedy, the next sad story amongst a million of his other brothers and sisters, all lay lifeless, merciless and black - but any ****** is justified as long as the cries of the white man are pacified.
Tomorrow the headlines will read "Black Man Consumed by Bullets" and no one saw him, no one killed him, and no one heard his cries.
But I know, us black folks know.
Being any colour but white is the death sentence.
Dead is the new Black.

The shadow moves above my eyes.
I'm blindfolded from sight, handcuffed from touch. The warm feeling of these lips upon my skin - *******, nibbling, biting from this excessive ****** lust and the crude tongue, playing a lecherous percussion of the forbidden dance on my ***** and ******* all this a tantalizing damnation, then this weapon I've been wanting, needing, craving is punched into me, pulling back and forth from *****-lovers lane. It lingers, simmers, agonizingly feeding my sexually crazed desires. I feel as if I'm crawling, brushing, climaxing my ****** and all that is around me. I let out a slow, mournful growl as I'm drawn to a constellated galaxy of ******* rush. Then I  release myself through the milky-way returning to Earth, back in the beige-walled room. The blindfold is now off: free to sight, free to touch. I take a deep breath, look down upon my *** - I want to see him, the Mozart of my ****** pleasure; but instead I find her sitting there ******* her finger,wearing nothing but a smirk.