On New York’s filthy streets
Is where he helplessly laid
Bleeding like a piece of butchered meat
Without any medical first aid

He fled Haiti to escape the political dangers
Only to be robbed of humanitarian rights
In a neighborhood where he lived among strangers
As strived to bring some new light to his plight.

His American dreams and goals were trampled
Along with his honor/dignity/name
For the price of freedom is why he gambled
Not knowing that he would die like a cigarette flame.

His death is upon the protectors of the city
With his blood their hands are severely stained
Their hearts too empty for any sense of pity
For those who loved him and those in pain.

We all felt his injustice, we all felt the hurt
We all demanded justice for his disgrace
We all knew that police brutality
Could no longer be tolerated by our race

There was no need for such deadly force
No just cause for the pigs to take such a stand
In showing such a barbarian act without remorse
For the death of an innocent black man.

copyright (c) 2005 Baba Olutunde Olufemi