Common Law

Altruism runs silent and still in a trickle of blood down the gutter, into the sewer.

Justice dies in a chokehold, gasping “I can’t breathe”.

Racism rears its ugly head towards a crimson hoodie, underneath a winter moon, scattering skittles across the ground.

Corruption stands in a crowd of blue with backs turned on the people. A mayor calls for an investigation, but he is to blame.

Faith is pummeled into wet pavement with batons breaking bones over screams of surrender.

Hope. How, where, when, can I rise?