We brush our teeth, knowing
the upside-down smile
blocks our speech.
We wash our face
hoping the sterile mask
gently stays in-its place.
We put our shoes-on,
knowing there’s no job
for “us” to trod.
We put our pants-on,
knowing we ain’t got
a leg to stand on.
We put on
our white tee-shirt(s),
knowing by the days end,
it’ll be filled with red bullet holes.
This is what I do know.
The body of armor
covers-up a Motherless-childs’
city potholes.
Casket sharp.
That’s what I know.
Best dress fo-sho.
Dedicated to: Good to be seen, not viewed. ‘Ya heard me?
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