For George Floyd

I didn't write a poem,
when they choked you
I didn't write a poem
When his knee was on your neck
I didn't write a poem
when you expired
I didn't write a poem
When they rose
I didn't write a poem
Throughout the eruptions
I didn't write a poem
When like a wild fire
You soul set the world alight
I didn't write a poem
For their knee was on my neck
I can't breath
Living on borrowed times
Handcuffed since time immemorial
Face down in internal surrender
hissing and gasping
For a better day tomorrow
In a Whiteman's world
 - For George Floyd

P.s whats a poem for a nigga gasping on his last breath 

Messiah

There was a time
The Lord ran for dear life
He found refuge
In the motherland
She has been abused
Raped and debased
But tell her kids the truth
When the Lord was captured by fear
Rejected by his kith and kings
And for him, his father sought safety
He came to us
Then what of our motherland?
If the Lord found refuge in her
She saved him
She is the Lord's Messiah

Masses

Masses are an alter
You bring them in I perish
I cannot stand to suffocate
I long for a place far off
In the hills and mountains
In the valleys
Far from this chaos
Of a madding crowd
Happy in their joys
Happy in the anguish
Set me afar from their happiness
I want the truth