I don’t remember
Exactly when it happened
But Legos were my favorite toys
Our dad came home
Sat his kids down
And shushed us from any noise
He told us there were shots
So much blood
It filled a whole paper
The man was neither family
Nor friend,
But a dear brother
He was murdered
In Chicago
In cold blue
Excuses made
“A mistake”
“What were we to do?”
I began to feel pain
So, I reached a hand back
And massaged our scars
Hundreds of years of healing
Yet in times like this
I remember where our skin was ripped apart
Could we truly say we were free?
Is that the proper word?
No, no it couldn’t
“It’s slavery!”
Would they admit it?
No, I’m sure they wouldn’t