Wednesday, August 2, 2017


Imprisoned in the castle of my skin so I made a collect call to God,
But everything seems to remain the same or maybe I'm just insane,
Clutching cold realities and nightmares I'm George Stinney on death-row,
I'm seeking emancipation from the fear etched on my innocence,
But I'm lost in a matrix reciting verses from a childhood book of tricks,
Perhaps I could crawl out of  my skin and find my consciousness,
And emerge into existence from the abyss of my familiarity,
I'm on a quest to find myself but they found me first and they found me guilty,
In a room with unfamiliar faces they asked me if I was Guilty,
I said that I wasn't I said that I was George, I've been George since birth,
I'm George Stinney I said, I was nurtured to get on my knees and pray,
But when I natured I opened my eyes I was on my knees and the prey,
I wish I could clamber up these walls like a Maypop and find my way home,
But I am George Stinney, for skittles and ice tea I lost my life,
I never stood a chance because of my baggy pants and hoodie,
I'm George Stinney, I fell into a coma while in police custody and I never woke up,
I am George Stinney, I was pulled over and murdered because I fit the description,
I am George Stinney, when you only identify me by the color of my skin.

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