Blood On The Floor

Give me a drum,

Give me something to hum,

I’m so sick of sitting here,

Twiddling my thumbs

It true that unlike some,

I was happy with how far we’d come,


But it’s time for work, 

Dust off your hurt,

It’s time to exert,

And stop being inert,

No more fear,

be as free as a bird,


Doing nothing right now is completely absurd,

Open your ears and hear these words,


When you’ve had enough, don’t make anymore

It’s already tough without blood on the floor

Call your own bluff and open the door

Is it all about “stuff” - don’t keep the wrong score


Am I us or them,

From where does does it stem,

Lots of us when,

There's few of them,

Where will it end,

No breaking, let's just mend


This poem is about: 
My community
My country
Our world


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