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Who decides
it’s genocide,
and what does failure
to consider the facts hide?
Crime against humanity
without a name.
Maybe it would have been
more merciful
for Mom to
bash in my brain,
or Dad to have left me
as a bed linen stain.
You accuse me of
playing the race card
like it’s some kind of game.
A silhouette target
on an open range.
And why is it that 
good cops stand around
while their errant brethren
go to ground?
Hiding behind blue walls,
antebellum attitudes,
and laws with no balls.
Old crows line the wire
and sit on the fence
failing to heed
their own raucous caws
and their deleterious effects
while we continue to bleed.
~
* The title is derived from an old African-American saying, ” The blacker the berry the sweeter the juice.
~
M. Zane McClellan
~
Copyright © 2016
All rights reserved
 

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