I laugh at your humiliation.
Your dismissive actions –

protracted and extrapolated

a segue to

ugliness metastasized.

No air in a

vaccum of humility –

when people have spoken –

giving no fucks
jokes about journalists

Black men being shot –

my Momma, sisters and cousins subjugated –

kids on cots
families pulled
asunder while
you & minions
plunder –
verily I say unto you

when the clouds beckons –
calling for its currency

as what you have sown
will soon come due.

When the chickens come home to roost.

Copyright © 2020 ShunPwrites. All Rights Reserved.

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About Shun P. Writes

Author, Amateur Genealogist, Writer, Poet, possessor of 2 cents, blogger and eternal student of life, who harbors a firm belief in his Grandmother's mantra that: "People need to get off of their rump and do something". All while keeping in mind that a cheering section will often get in the way.