A modification of murder,
Where beings who wear blue
seem to be black peoples' hoarders,
They take our organs,
Stuff them according
To how "reckless" we are.
Our bodies piling up contained inside your borders.
When you received a phone call of a man going crazy,
Did you pray he had a brown complexion?
Tell me, did you smile, and say another black man for our collection?
His grandmother then asked you to stop hitting her grandson,
To that, you threatened to lock her up, obviously for fun,
Where is that signature badge of blue protection you pledged by?
You punched him once, you punched him twice,
Bravo, your punches to kill were precise!
This is a modification of murder;
Turn off the ever spouting faucet of the blood of beings who bled red, white and blue.
Give me back all my parts of me or I shall never feel true.
And if you choose not to do these things, and I forever speak my mind...
Will I just be,
Another modification of murder?