The Sermon on the Soapbox

We Chit and chatter

 About Scars and tatters

While the clicks of

Triggers and hammers

Decorate the air

Filling the room with talk

Of green lights and block searches

Reminiscing over old friends and cold murders

Until a gunshot brings us all to attention like soldiers

Awaiting our general's words like breath to a drowning man

He speaks

"

 We all know why we're gathered here today

A brother was taken from us but let us not forget what he taught us

But before we begin

Let us pray

Blessed are the poor,

For yours is the kingdom of the ghetto

Blessed are you who weep

For your tears shall soon become bullets

Blessed are those who hate you,

For their hate will be balanced with their blood "

AMEN resounds off the walls and he continues

"

Our friend got murdered

 His body slumped on the ground

His whole life ended with a sound.

BANG!

That sound made time stand

   Still

Momentarily

But now isn't the time for memories or sentimentality

Because war has been brought to our doorstep

So we need Glocks in our hands

And anger in our hearts

Because the system is rigged so we have to do our part

Not to let this go

Not to let

 This Negro boy's worst nightmare

Turn into the American country's dream

Where we face times

Where we're lying in wait

Only to be taken in the night

Not knowing if we're going to live to see another day

Or end up the subject of a eulogy

Well Excuse me if I may,

But We cannot let today be that day

We will not let today be that day

   "

And as cheers rise up and fuck yeahs ring out

I tune out the rest of the GD Malcolm X spout

And see my homie take a gun out

He places it  in my hands

With a fire in his eyes

That's been stoked by the

 Dripping of tears and the funeral cries

And with a look on his face that

 transcends time he

 releases the grip on the Glock

 like God on his clock

And says

Go