Gun Patrol

The heavy metal became the pedal for the pedestal at the federal level.

The ones who control take the toll of soul, painting black.

The ones who've yelled pull to the man in black,

who knows only to attack his brothers in Iraq.

The same violence kept the black son silent, 

in the year of the black sun.

The uncle of the faction was mined and manufactured as a tool to kill and capture,

then to reframe the aperture of the flash on the hands of the deceased,

saying their music is diseased,

blaming the hijab and message of peace,

to murder with metal and further blame "ghetto."

The heavy metal toll has become known to those screaming for gun control,

But the ones who control use guns to control,

Disguised by the name "patrol."


This poem is about: 
My community
My country
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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