Pain . . .

 
I live in Detroit, a full time zone apart
Why does this latest death so affect my heart?
Little slices of Motown are choked off every day
Bankruptcy, no water, too many tragedies to say.
No work, less hope, police brutality now and then
Something about Trayvon, Michael, and Eric create a frightening trend.
It might look like the color thing is the over-riding theme
It is the historical brush that paints over the American dream.
A deeper look reveals that color is just the front door
That takes us to protecting and serving the 1% for sure.
The police are supposed to protect and serve, and these officers did not do.
For these residents and others were murdered by a lawless crew.
What these names and all the others share as each one died
Is their working class connection to which each soul is forever tied.
They come from communities of courage where working families strive
The salt of the earth, the nation’s blood, now life forever denied.
The legacy this country ignores, the haves and the have-nots exist
We grasp this fact soon, or peace and tranquility will be constantly missed.
I expect more pain, more tears until we unite on the basis of class
When that moment arrives, we can stop being kicked in the ass.
I live in Detroit, under attack, dictators in charge of my nights and days
But the sleeping giant is awaking up as we enter the future’s next phase.
All of this misery stops, the 1% is out of luck
As we get smarter, we save the world, and force these corporate pirates to ask, WTF!!!
It ain’t gonna stop unless we better understand the world
So we must demand freedom and unity for every little boy and girl.  We do!!!
—Maureen D Taylor, State Chairperson, Michigan Welfare Rights Organization