A street I’ve walked 100 times
Within the city’s core,
Where restaurants frame the scenery
Most empty by the score.

Here once the lonely mingled
Their purpose blind to self,
Now thousands deep in shoulder
The poor combined with wealth.

Through masks or over top them
They chant in synchrony,
“I cannot breathe,” although they can
To echo George’s plea.

Colors blend, becoming shades
Too hard to tell apart,
And for the time these strangers walk
They beat within one heart.

But still that heart is broken
For yet another turn,
As souls approach exhaustion
Deep hatred’s unconcerned.

But march they will and march they do
The world calls out his name,
With tear in eye and prayers on high
Dear God, this has to change!

Leana Delle
June 6th, 2020