One shot fired into open air—
As heavy curtains
Draw dark corners
Into our house,
We turn away and run .
Two shots fired into open air—
The empty walls
Resonate
As we lay under
A new, foreign sky.
Three shots fired into open air—
We try to forget-
What is now history
We walk down the streets
With a name in an unfamiliar
Tongue
And our heads bent
Last shot fired into open air—
Our necks forced down,
One of us is wailing;
Two of us in silence-
Nothing avails.
Because
We are a shade darker
than their soils
And there’s a cloth on our heads-
Screaming.
Nov 6, 2018
Nov 6, 2018 at 2:20 AM UTC
One shot fired into open air—
As heavy curtains
Draw dark corners
Into our house,
We turn away and run .
Two shots fired into open air—
The empty walls
Resonate
As we lay under
A new, foreign sky.
Three shots fired into open air—
We try to forget-
What is now history
We walk down the streets
With a name in an unfamiliar
Tongue
And our heads bent
Last shot fired into open air—
Our necks forced down,
One of us is wailing;
Two of us in silence-
Nothing avails.
Because
We are a shade darker
than their soils
And there’s a cloth on our heads-
Screaming.
