A Prayer for White America

When morning comes

and the lingering stench of teargas

burning wood and burned rubber fills the air

Will you remember me?

When the sounds of sirens like vicious hyenas

and the wings of helicopters like circling giant vultures

are replaced only by the silent crackling of broken glass under your feet

Will you remember me?

When your streets are unrecognizable

and the businesses you owned for years in my community are now, long gone

turned to rubble and stone

Will you remember me?

Will you remember me

when your bleak boarded-up windows and doors

are no longer painted with brilliant color filled graffiti

graffiti that calls for an end to the vicious injustices that society

has imparted upon me.

Will you remember me?

I need to know.

Because long after you file your property insurance claims

receive settlements and rebuild your businesses from those same

stained broken rubble and stones

using government backed grants and loans

I will still be gone.

So, will you remember me?