Poetry Blog by Adam Scopp
Tags from last 12 months
Hands Up, On Your Knees
Hands up
On your knees
It’s not an instruction
It’s a threat
Because your skin
Your hands
Your hoodie
Are a weapon
So you drop
You drop like Trayvon’s skittles
You drop like Tamir’s BB pellets
You drop like Michael’s cigars
Or you drop dead.
Each breath could be your last
Breathe breathe breathe
I can’t breathe
Please, please, I can’t breath...
Wednesday 10th June 2020 1:09 am