Bars
March 2020, streets are ghost, silence in the block,
Man with a mask, walkin' through, feelin' the city's shock.
Empty LA parking lot, wet with rain's weep,
Wears his black mask, secrets and sorrows deep.
Grey hoodie shadow, black cap brim low,
Through jail-like bars, his silent struggle on show.
Anger in his stride, each step a heavy drop,
Echoing off the asphalt, a heart that won't stop.
Eyes locked forward, vision barred by steel,
But you can't cage the fury, the pain that he feels.
The world on lockdown, but it's more than a virus fight,
It's about being seen, in the dim pandemic light.
Black man marching, a one-man parade,
Against the bars of injustice, not easily swayed.
The rain can't wash away, the stains of silent cries,
Nor the rage in the heart, beneath "Lonely LA" skies
