I ask you, Lady Justice,
when and how are you best served?
when will the Earth have enough
slain youth occupying her plots,
sprouting premature tombstones like weeds?
We are tired of weeping what you sow.
when can black mothers stop crying?
when will Ferguson be a city again?
when will second-class citizens be
that cheap date America never calls back?
when will you give yourself to all?
when will your scales weigh more
than a one-sided badge?
when will you remove your blindfold,
unloosen knots tied by the same
hands that manipulate your morals?
when will black deaths be fate’s work
not the small print in policing protocol?
when can we stop mourning?
when will their names mean more
than the times you forgot to show up?