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One shot, two shots, down
We trusted you with our lives
You’re meant to be our relief
Supposed to keep us safe
Yet we lay lifeless on the ground
Our families only left with their cries
Who do we trust now?
Who do we call out for help?
When our very own saviors
are the causes of our deaths
Why is it always the ones with more melanin
who can’t walk away alive in any situation?
Shoot, why is that the first thing that comes to mind?
A few seconds of choice affect the rest of anothers lives
Forever a hole gapes in their heart
From where the bullet killed their loved one
Our police, our lawsetters
They need to save us from danger
Not be the danger themselves
Poetry
United States of America