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  • Writer's pictureRandy Nabors



Sad again in my dismay,

Frequency’s bitter


All and each time I see

One more act of violence gratuitous:

Official misconduct

An act of rage

Here one of murder

Victim by mob

Drive bye


Bullies at it again.

Fractured skulls,

Blood oozes out of

Kinetic invasive holes,

Suffocated by the weight

Of authority

Committing injustice.

Shot for revenge, shot by mistake

Instigated by a petty diss.

Whether by policemen

Wardens, prison guards


Or gang banger,


Against the innocent,

Against the guilty,

Against the non-resisting,

Against a person robbed

Against a person black

Against a person poor

Against a person white

Against the gay

Against a person Latino

Against a person Asian

Against a person aged

Against a person young

Against a woman.

What it is

Is an attack against justice,

Against the nation

Against our peace

Against our future;

An attack

Against us all.

We all can get mad enough

To harm and kill,

When will we get mad enough

To stop it?

When will you stop worrying

About your own damn self

And give a damn

About the soon to be dead?

When will you stop believing

It never happens here?

When it comes to your own porch,

Your own house,

Your own son,

Your own baby girl?

When will we stop excusing

Those with badges

Those ones who protect only


When in fear they beat our children,

Shoot them, lie, and cover up?

When will we stop being afraid

When policemen pull us over,

Or walk on a street

Filled with young black men

Who pass us by?

When will uniforms

Dance with tattoos

And studs and rings?

When will hoodies

Be a style without guile

Meant for cold and rain?

When will men who make babies

Stay home to raise them?

When will courage

Replace machismo insecurity?

When will love of neighbor

Replace our callous disregard?

When will risk

Be what we take

To protect another

Instead of saving ourselves?

We live in a land

Where our soldiers

Don’t abuse us.

They carry no weapons here

They don’t rob or terrify,

We do it to ourselves.

Stop letting baby boys teach

Baby boys

The way of the street;

Its fathers who make boys into men!

Neither paranoia,

Nor cruelty, mean or harsh control

Will stop this bloodbath.

Family, dignity, identity, self-respect,

Love that lead to confidence,

Strength that affords kindness

Power that protects.

Give me some damn men in these


Show us a better way.

When will uniforms

Dance with fades and homies

And pride be found

In workman’s clothes

And not in sagging pants?

When will cops and black men see

Beyond what they expect,

Find a treasure in the other

Change those feared into friend.

Enough with this eye for an eye shit,

Or soon we’ll never see our way

Out of it.

Randy Nabors

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