The Anthem

!Steel and concrete erecting up for nearly a whole mile, When struck, just so, by men in flight, reduces to a pile. The grandest hall in Europe stood eight hundred years in France. Now, dwarfed to not much more than frame by mightier, the match. As towers fall and churches burn, and flags still wave and crowns return to eager patriots and saints, the news comes on, and mother faints, and dad drops down upon his knees and grandma crys and prays and pleads, "Please Lawd, don't let that be our "boy" dead on that TV, front that store!" Ran to the door and flung it wide, without my shoes, I stepped outside and began running, without fear, my face disfigured from the tears, "The TV screen cannot be true," I thought. Although, in fact, I knew. And when I'd reached that dreadful spot, his body's there, but soul was not. And so, today, I sit and watch well-wishes flow to that sweet spot where a crown again will lay, just as the flag again, does wave over a land of free and brave and peace for black boys, in their graves.