Untitled 012

by Shawnta Cannon

pieces of ourselves
still lie
in the streets
where we once marched upright
in the name of the struggle
but the youth
at the weathered bits
still recognizable as blackness
where they stand in the fight
more concerned with throwing elbows
than raising fists 
these days
not conceiving 
ending up such as this
they would favor to go out in a way
so that no pieces remain

Untitled 012 by Shawnta Cannon

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