This poem was written for Tyre Nichols who was beaten to death at the hands of five Black police officers.
The clashing of metal to skin pierces the sky
The tearing of flesh from bone rips the evening cool
The gnashing and gnarling of teeth accompany
This horrific melody
But no one comes to his aid
The night air sprayed with blood is stung by the victim’s cries
The screams for his mother swaddle his lungs as the tears stream from his eyes
But they only laugh in glee, you see
They haven’t a soul or a heart for his plea
Their inner monster, clothed with blue, is hidden behind badges of authority
They think these badges will justify their unfathomable, innate cruelty
He is a man who is unarmed
He hasn’t caused anyone any harm
And yet they target him for this demise
Their own amusement at the cost of his life
The muddy chocolate hue of his skin matches theirs
But is now painted in red
As the brown turns black and blue, his pain is beyond comprehension
He is almost dead
What level of self-hatred can exist to cause one to batter one’s own?
The abuse of power is clearly seen
If hearts are not changed, it doesn’t matter the skin tone
Is it the same murderous blood that ran through the veins of Cain?
Did it course through theirs, too, leading them into a belligerent rage?
Instead of being their brother’s keeper, they circled and caged him in
Making him the brunt of their brutality
Making him the mark of their sin
You may donate to Tyre’s loved ones at: https://www.gofundme.com/f/tyre-nichols