I am angry over all the things you can't makeup to me.
You hurled words through worlds of tinted windows and dying girls.
Lives where black men cried and wives tried to mend shattered eyes.
You promised all this love to my little boy - a place where he can sit and still be a man.
But you lost me long ago when you whispered goodnight
When you danced your white hand through the air
Promised change in the name of equality
Marched through the streets for our fallen love.
But here we are lost and late to our own sins.