Late for the Protest

Late for the Protest

I was late
for the revolution,
damn thing started
without me,
protests and the water cannons,
mass killings and the bloody streets.

I hated being late
to the Sandy Bland rally,
the Eric Garner march,
with bullhorns and the indignation,
evidence tampering and the corrupt,
murdering cops.

I remained late
to Cecil’s murder,
the dentist and his white insular
privilege, the pain
of lions, rhinos, elephants,
losing the fight before
it starts.

Far too late
to save those nine souls
in Charleston’s church,
to stop the hate of race,
color, history,
of the Klan.

I will be late
to my own funeral,
catching up
on all the other things
I’m late for,
must get done,
before jumping
in that urn,
ashes singed and content.

And late.

by
Rod C. Stryker

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