Can you imagine
your son,
with his neck
under the knee,
as his breath came in shorter
and he begged for release?
Or your daughter,
asleep in her bed,
as the door came down
and she woke in
terror to the
shootingshouting roaring
through her ears?
Or your cousin, out running,
brought down
in his prime,
for no
reason?
Or a child,
a young child,
your
child —
beaten,
on the side
of the road,
like she was nothing
like she was not
even
a
thing?
You cannot imagine,
because this,
should be
unimaginable.
But we are
watching
watching
watching
We should be
listening
listening
listening
For the time for watching
is over,
and the time for acting
is now.
This poem is available as a limited edition print with 100% of proceeds going to the NAACP Legal Defense Fund.
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