If the black squares fade into the recesses of our feeds,
If the hashtags no longer trend,
If the headlines no longer shout,
If Floyd is just another name on a list,
Will anything have changed?
When the flames no longer heat the streets,
And the masses no longer cheer.
When the batons are stowed away again,
and the barrels are lowered from the crowds,
Will anything have changed?
If we subdue our anger at injustice,
Again,
If the raging fire within is doused to a candle-like flame,
Again,
If our fight wanes with the rounds of denial,
Again,
If the emotions are tamed,
Again,
If we succumb to the oppressors “reason”,
Again,
When the black voices are silenced,
Again,
And the wailings of our mothers no longer pierce the night sky,
Again,
Will anything have changed?
Will black lives then truly matter?
Will a people sober from its love for self?
Will the corporate lynchings end then?
Will black mothers finally rest with peace,
Certain that their sons will lay them to rest,
And not the other way round?
Will hard work finally pay a just wage?
Will the economic rains finally fall in the township?
Will a nation be born again and rise and fall the walls of hostility?
Will the midwives of our nation not abort our tomorrows?
Will the clenched fists now stretch towards the hungry,
And the strong arms then lift up and not put down?
When your likes have ended.
Will you repent or repeat?
Will you advance or retreat?
Will you like who you’ve become?
Perhaps…
A brother’s keeper.
A sister’s protector.
Many tribes.
One people.
