It's a sunny, lovely day,
Honored by the presence of hundreds
Of Mockingbirds, squirrels and butterflies.
Suddenly a gunshot splits the distressful air
And a Negro is found lying, dead, on the asphalt,
Wallowing in his blood.

The judge is watching in immense satisfaction
While the prosecutor slips some money
To 16 concealed people,
Under their wall of superiority.

The wind continues blowing, the flower still blooms,
But the life of an innocent was taken,
By the power that was given to 16 numb human beings.
Not by god.

The verdict of the trial was well known to all,
Though it was never said out loud,
Till the end.
The numb judge was watching,
The crowd was cheering with all their strength,
And a gunshot split the air,
Splitting the innocent's brain.
But no tear had dropped; no pain was felt,
Cause after all, he was a Negro, who was accused
By a white.
We couldn't feel sorry for him,
We shouldn't mercy his soul,
He's just another dead Negro,
Who was killed by the presents in court,
By the jury's correct, non-racist, decision.
Aren't I right?