The drops of blood you see on the pavement have a source.
They do not just appear by chance.
They come from a soul.
They came from a body.
And when you took a defensive stance
with a gun in hand,
and weapon at your command,
You threatened that man or woman or child that stands before you with human eyes.
And when your finger pulled the trigger
that threat carried a soul out of this world.
In that moment you may have felt
bigger or badder
but when the accusations
were hurled your way,
you realized, you saw,
You came out of the haze you were in
and saw that in in the end,
that person at the end of the barrel of your gun was a human just like you.
With a body and soul and blood that runs not blue or black or white.
Red.
Red can be the color for many things,
A burning anger or passion that sings,
Red is brave and bold and unafraid,
Does not do what it's told but
acts with no chains to hold it back.
Red is fierce when it is not blood.
When red is blood it is defeat or victory, depends from which lens you see it from.
How strange it is that black and white men have so much in common
and yet it is all forgotten
over a difference in color.
What if men were colorblind?
Would it matter then?
SK
