they wanted papa's paper because power isn't fair
and the war on drugs has failed us kids
gone hide under them stairs
don't look back now, them kids are cryin'
and they don't even know,
they cant make sense of
reasons why their papas gotta go.
the lights are flashing bright as hell
why can't they turn them off
four cop cars, and 4x4 truck?
there's children here, sir,
but we can tell, y'all don't give a fuck
bout the dinners we shared,
the time papa cut his hair
In the living room on the floor,
rolling round, play pretend
that papa is a superhero,
no monsters to be found,
but now when I look at papas photo
I still can hear the sound
of them crashing course through the door
and mama crying loud and pushing us
into that little room meant for brooms and hiding candy
from papa who wanted me to have a pretty smile,
but there he goes again, superpowers, standing in the door
faced away, arms behind, with his iron chin raised high above
too many little boys in blue who never learned to love.
For papa,
I love you.
17