The Storm

Nearly every day I read about yet another act of police brutality—it's like a storm that sweeps up the country and the entire world.


Sometimes the storm descends at night,
On other days in broad daylight,
Two worlds collide—one black, one white,
A wordless fight, a painful blight.

One mind is dark, complexion fair,
With bright insignia to bear,
One mind is fair, of sable skin,
Its only shield, its only sin.

Sometimes the storm descends at night,
On other days in broad daylight,
Two worlds collide—one black, one white,
One walks away and one has died.


August 10, 2015


Photo Credit: Jonathan Bachman | Reuters