Image for the poem cut me some s-l-a-c-k

cut me some s-l-a-c-k

The ultimate tragedy is not the oppression and cruelty
by the bad people but the silence over that by the good
—Martin Luther King, Jr.

cut me
into a thousand pieces
put me
out in the cold where ceases
my breath to breathe
while underneath

your knee i spill my faeces

hate me
till love retains no traces
rate me
by colour bars and races
and when you feel
you've had your fill

inter me in dark places

cut me
some slack
that I might flourish
put me
beside the streams that nourish
the broken screams
of broken dreams

surge me with human courage

my bones
will dance in new-found freedom
my moans
will fill God's holy Kingdom
though in the earth
i suffer dearth

i marvel in His Wisdom

one day
the graves shall burst wide open
this clay
that you have vainly broken
shall judge your soul
against the scroll

for thus His Word has spoken

© Copyright 2020 June 02
by Clyve A. Bowen♫
Author's Note
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