Caught on tape
No
Never
He will come
He is dead
He was killed
By police.
His lung, heart, and his eyes
Went away; are buried
He was killed but bullets
The gun use, excessive
He is dead.
Bravo to the man
Bravo to his cam
Bravo to the day
Plenty…digital
Easy to do it right.
In my dark
And each night
In the shelves and in racks
See victims; are in tons
Out of sight
Out of mind
And ignored.
No record
Men busy…do not see
Even he, the Yateem
Of fear?
Unaware?
You tell me…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem