The Lynching

Just think about it. How would you feel if the roles were reversed?

My slender broken neck

Hanging from a tree

All because my mother birthed me

With skin of cream

My innocence they took

With out remorse or repast

My virtue was stolen from me

How long could the torture last

They hit me and they hurt me

Because my skin was white

They stained it with these inky bruises

The parchment torn tonight

My story will be told

And in this crimson flood

They gather and they relish

Wash their hands in my blood

Then they run screaming

As my corpse is lit on fire

Not in Honour but in Hate

A twisted funeral pyre

Our roles once reversed

Through racisms plight

Once blacks were persecuted

For their skin was not white

Author's Note

We were talking about the lynchings in history the other day and this came to mind. It sickens me how they were treated and I think we all need to take a look at how it could have been, how it would have been, if they had taken the same actions we did.