On liquor

On Liquor I learned how to speakeasy stopped s l u r r i n g words and stttuttering emotions when I write the prohibition has been lifted from my tongue, I mean it when I say I’m brave enough to expose scabs.

Gunshots leave scars on more than flesh of young brown men.

Welts on the hearts of mother cry out to be heard and healed through Him. I still smell smoke from Trayvon and Tamir stemming from flames of indiscretion of police polluted by the strong drink of power.

I learned how to talk sober long enough to ask God whisk me away from the shots of whisky downed by a corrupt system of bodies masquerading, as the silhouette of justice I see darkness in your actions.

So I give you water, sober your mind.

The light shines on the good and bad.

Enlighten me, when will you walk towards sincere apology outlined in change?

These chains, because they do not exist will not withhold my judgment or compassion.

Let freedom of speech ring in your ear until we hear change in response.