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Our America is not a world stage,
And we the black oppressed
Are not mere players; rather, our story here
Is a bloody reality—a bloody reality of our rape 
From the womb of our Motherland to our daily bloody
Exit murdering from one century to another.
Racist oppressors and their executed actions are
As real as the sun, the moon, Middle Passage waters
And the days and nights—the centuries—of slavery—
The sands of time’s time!  And now the seven deadly sins
Have had their prodigal, racism, violently revealed to the whole
Real world!  The whole real world that has allowed American
Racism to perpetuate its bubble reputation of violent racist
Oppression and the near extermination of those God created
This land to keep and nourish; and now in today’s staged reality,
There is one who plays well the simultaneous twin parts of washed
Hands Pharaoh and evil horn Satan in the pandemic hell in whose
Air the world and its humanity rave panting echoes to mother life,
I can’t breathe!  Yet, in this age of a nation founded on violence,
A Satanic Pharaoh in Shakespearian style attempts to romanticize
Nonviolence in the like manner in which history does violence; but
Teetering to trump timed truth with bible in hand is as if to question
God.  So, on a sad day in the world’s reality, stood a mere player as
If in a sad Gratiano scene:  Sans reality, sans mentality, sans humanity;
Indeed sans everything—in a stage less world of reality where a fool can
 No longer pontificate ranting fear and unmasked demonic ways of being.

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