#Philosophistication

Drowning:
I can't breathe;
It's a scene of sins
when you've seen the
cynical nature within the
flatscreen, press press press
till the remote breaks,
earth quakes as melanin is
treated as feeble, nibble on the
blood of a black man's corpse,
spinal cord snaps and snapshotting
civilians screaming against the man,
guns and prison locks ignored,
dance with the Glock, the
melting pot leaving our souls
evaporating, with death we've been
for long mating, no eternity it's
a sad mortality for us, it's another
sight of violence from lawful entities,
loyalists of racist brutes, death
of my kind is institutionally cute,
always grow mute when prosecution
is avoided every time the man
leaves the unarmed black guy unconscious,
call Morpheus to come save his people,
serve them; the matrix has a loophole.
Save a brother searching for a way home,
one fishing for wealth when
earth is merely a temporary realm,
riddle us sanity when gold and
coin defines our sovereignty,
the bitter truth stings, corpses
sleep and fancy criminals have
blue uniforms for cover, riveting
around our overalls snatching tax
from the palms of our souls,
neglect our presence; find
our sovereignty in a thousand hells,
life is merely a game of notions,
sentiments and our subliminal emotions,
lips causing truth erosion, most are lost and
carving reality from a dry
bark's shell, black consciousness is
shelved for those carrying no true sight
for insight has been caged, incarcerated
and Animal_Farm-ed within an institutional
page; constitute our rage;
death of a thousand sages.

Don't shoot; bang bang, blood
traces pavements in calligraphy,
died on a Monday, Wednesday it's
resurrection: another one snapping
off nails from the crucifix,
there's no simple fix there's a
need to pick your lane, and stain
the whole nations with feathers
of black...