by Ryan Jones
Dear mayor,
in the office
hear my call
my people are dying
while you having a ball,
with death lingering
under our feet
for years
y’all refuse to hear us speak,
people had to die more can come
but you sit and play games
like this is for fun
filling us with broken promises
covering us up with ash
y’all created prisons
and police cameras instead
and say that is that,
this is not fair
I’ll tell you the truth
you would not like it if this was you,
all we ask is to be removed
from the cancerous place called
Gordon Plaza you fool,
from the pain to the tears of the ones we lost
this is not us this is your fault
how can you do this? it’s easy to do
you do have the power
but instead you use it you cater to others,
take your time make sure they’re fine
but now is our turn as victory is mine
you will hear our voice; you will see us speak
and at the end of this fight there will be peace,
remove us from this toxic land or forever
we will make you understand,
may your guilty conscious haunt
you at night with the darkest
of your mind that you reside – we will win,
until then mayor – goodnight,
sincerely,
ryan jones