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Cry of a Panther
October 2, 2015
Why do you declare war on us not peace?
Look at my hands and red is all you see
They’re black. As black as worn out skin can be
But black don’t crack and fear is far from me
Violence is alive, but you still ignore
You can’t see brothers dying on the street
You can’t see ropes and bombs and starving kids
My eyes are starting to resemble fists
I know no patience, I am filled with spite
A wild rebel, a gunman in the night
But in the dark our truth has been spoken
Ground has shattered, animals have woken.
© Jacob S., Kannapolis, NC
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