His Name Was Michael Brown

Someone is dead but there is no justice
Someone is dead but there is no justice
Someone is dead but there is no justice
they say it just is
and ask no questions.
Is Liberty blind,
or was she taught not to see?
Echoes of history grown from strange fruit of the poplar tree.
Reading by wrote but cannot spell,
A mother lost a son
and they say all is well.
Who will dispute the story
a dead man can’t tell?
Originally posted to Hello Poetry. Inspired in part by a status post from Poet Andrea Gibson, Liberty Needs Glasses by Tupac Shakur and Billie Holiday’s Strange Fruit.

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