He couldn't breathe
I began to grieve,
Then his life began to leave.
He again begged for air,
The police wouldn't protect him there.
On his neck was a knee
"Air! " was his only plea,
I couldn't imagine it being my child or me.
He laid flat upon the hot street,
Dying on the concrete.
Tears running down his cheek
His body going weak,
Help he did seek.
He then began to slowly wheeze
As he uttered, "please".
For air he then began to gasp
Upon his neck remained the clasp,
Life then left his grasp.
No more did he pleaded,
His cries were all left unheeded.
He was undefended
After 8 minutes and 47 seconds his life ended,
His color had offended.
With the sound of badges clatter,
Black lives matter.
Randy L. McClave
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
oh breathing it's difficult for him now he is rest in peace but still our learning remains in unpeace