They crossed the Pettus Bridge in peace,
were met with hoses, dogs, police.
Unleashed on them, in rabid wrath,
evidenced by the aftermath.
Where torn and bloodied all around,
Black women, children, on the ground.
Appeals for mercy went ignored,
Order, damn it, will be restored.
Straight to God’s ear, from a Babe’s mouth,
no justice found in Jim Crow South.
Martyred souls for the right to vote,
access to a system now broke.
Unarmed Black kids shot down like dogs,
disproportionate jail roll calls.
All in “My country ’tis of thee”,
so many fought and died to free.
M. Zane McClellan
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