Poem: Isaiah — Ramon Ariel

Role: WRITER/PHOTOGRAPHER

Isaiah

Anger
losing grip on reality
I'm in a dream
Another one shot
Another victim of the cops
Hands up no weapon
Cough
BLAM you're hit

Dressed up or dressed down
Still get shot down
It's not reality
We the ones bugging
Make America great again
Turn me into a slave again

What would you have me do
Strip naked
Pleaded yes massa
No massa
You are my god massa
You are my father
You are my jehova

Isaiah 54:17
No weapon that is formed against thee shall prosper;
and every tongue that shall rise against thee in judgment thou shalt condemn.
This is the heritage of the servants of the Lord,
and their righteousness is of me, saith the Lord.

What else should I do
Smile and bow
Amuse the crowd
Entertain those who don't care about anything
but themselves and their right now

Join the herd
Another one will get shot and yet again you won't be heard
Join the herd put the blinders on.

We will figure it out.
Of this oppression
there's always a way out.
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