I Can't Breathe Poem by Harry Biosah

As he lay motionless, drained
Like a depleted jumble
Stripped of every honor and dignity;
All he could mutter was:
"Mama... I can't breathe"
Telescoped by a befuddled and perplexed global audience
The charges were layed bare
Upon his lifeless soul-case:
Count one:
Being beget black;
Count two:
Daring to breathe while black.

However,
He wasn't conscious to take a plea-
Guilty as charged or innocent
The Dracula had made that certain;
To wickedly and insidiously
Snuff, squeeze out
The breath of life
From George Floyd
Like Eric Garner, Michael Brown
And a host of other
Harmless black folks
Who have unceremoniously and unconsciously
Bade farewell to this cruel world
To commune with our ancestors;
The Dracula, like a merciless
And remorseless creditor
Has cut off power,
Not minding his life
Was not in demurage

He, like others,
Payed the price
For being beget black
And daring to breathe...

The master sculptor, at inception
Sanctioned no charge for oxygen,
But man, sculptured in his image,
Now decides who breathes
And who must not...

Adieu George!