I Thought I Had Been Through It All

I thought I had been through it all —
sudden, violent death of a father
when I was seventeen and the
sudden, shocking death of my
wife at forty-nine — until now.
I see the suffering, the grief,
the pain of the families of those
Blacks cutdown violently, merci-
lessly, unjustly and those who
have been burned out of their
houses and lives lost in the
fires, and all their belongings
and the almost 200,000 lives
lost unnecessarily because of the
unbridled ego of the person who
couldn’t care less and the eight
thousand children who were just
let go at the border and abandon-
ed and then I hear of the steril-
ization of immigrant women at the
hands of an ICE fiend physician
nicknamed The Uterus Collector
and I drop to my knees and cry
and I hear the wales of the
children along the banks in
Babylon, “How long, O, Lord,
how long?”

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