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The American Facade

  • Tia Scott
  • May 2, 2018
  • 1 min read

Updated: Sep 28, 2021


How much is a life worth?

Under rolling tides of fear in white-washed waters

Sleeping in Chains of barbed wire, is this where my freedom lies?

In these cardboard houses, torn to flame by sinister words of rage?

These blank bullets shot at brothers, despite heart, despite age?

Their deaths a cause and effect of unavailing thoughts and prayers

Their only crime is gripping hands with night sky in despair

Maybe it’s here, in this soil, by Death’s ankles have we toiled

Our souls sculpting the American foundation

To embrace our skin as Black as ink

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