Like you I have struggled to find the words to respond to the horror of the murder of George Floyd before my very eyes. A man who allegedly tried to pass a counterfeit $20 bill was immediately regarded as a thief and killed without a trial or a chance to plead his case. Was he a threat to society? Did the police treat him this way for our own good? Absolutely not.
The irony of this story is he was killed by the knee of a policeman. If you remember it was just a few short years ago that quarterback Colin Kaepernick knelt during the national anthem in silent protest to the unjustified police killings of African Americans. His action was quickly adopted by many players in the NFL and every Sunday we saw them all taking a knee prior to the game. Kaepernick was promptly fired by the San Francisco 49ers and was ostracized by other teams who regarded him as an unpatriotic troublemaker and he never played in the NFL again. His career was ruined for protesting and highlighting that Black Lives Matter. Instead of acknowledging what he was protesting, his critics were deeply offended by his disregard for the flag and thought that was more egregious. “Taking a Knee” as it was referred to quickly picked up steam and it was adopted by many sports personalities. They became targets of Trump and were treated despicably.
Now a policemen has used his own knee to publicly take the life of an African American. Where is the justice?
I close my eyes but the picture remains imprinted in my brain The sounds will not cease The cries ring in my ears and the terrors continue
I come to this place of peace to shut out the world and its ugliness The sadness loss and agony to which I bear witness
Suffering the atrocities of mankind they cannot heal So how can I? With survivor’s guilt I carry the anguish of their ruined lives Unable to save or protect them
Through the bottom of a glass the world is kinder, manageable For as long as the buzz lasts Slipping into an alcohol-soaked oblivion
Numbing the agony temporarily until a different pain wakens the dysfunctional corpse Hammering the head into familiar regret
Looking out my front door I see no new horizon No muse to inspire or cheering squad to lift my weary soul and reconfirm my existence
Just a familiar fog that will obscure the goodness I can no longer find without liquid courage and confuse those of us who see no point in anything anymore
Exhausted from treading the uneven ground that is you I step back into black shadows Craving anonymity and peace Fatigued from sparring and exchanging elevated vocabulary Scratching and clawing at the remnants of our life An escape merely a detour Wishing for better fortune Avoiding more conflict Yet ultimately surrendering to the unseen enemy For love is a battlefield
