Troy ... a poem

Troy

I didn’t know you,
but I did.
You look like my little brother,
my dad,
my high school best friend.
I wonder what thoughts
raced through your mind
as they strapped you down.
Your innocence?
The injustice?
The crowd in Jackson chanting
“Clemency!”
Your sister’s face swollen and damp with tears…?
I cried with her. I cried for you.
Sitting in silence, eyes sore, sobbing
I wanted to cry out to God but couldn’t speak.
I was speechless,
while those who rallied shouted speeches
in your name.
For once, I felt powerless with my pen.
Writing, pleading, signing my name,
but letters didn’t save your life.
I can’t erase 11:08.
But I hope—
my fingers trembling as I type—
that writing will help us save
the next Troy.
I don’t know what else to do.
But more must be done.

Burn it down and let the people
REBUILD.

~cdw
9.27.11