Shades of Injustice

Upstretched hands pressed to graffitied wall,
Legs outspread, face afire with angry shame;
Strange hands roam over impeccant body
Presumptive guilt in denim jeans unfound

On a boy whose skin is the color black.

From youthful mouth explodes epithets foul
As his fragile skull cracks against scorched brick.
Crimson flow staining bleached cotton once pure;
The pernicious waltz of power rampant

And a teen whose skin is the color black.

Chrome plated shackles locking arms behind,
Spun then around to face his tormentors.
Tin shields, pinned to azure shirts, represent
Usurped authority to roughly abuse

Those for whom their skin is the color black.

Radios squawk, the teen briefly ignored,
While lazulines await vindication
For breaching protections of the Fourth.
With none forthcoming, jack-boots come crashing

On a face whose skin is the color black.

Behind grey steel bars his doom decided
Accused of assaulting men of sapphire.
Star Chamber court proceeds at finding guilt
Of an American whose fate is being

A person whose skin is the color black.