My beautiful home.
I’m so sorry, lovely.
I’m sorry it’s all so broken
I mourn your streets
Ransacked and ravaged by darkness,
Your streets weren’t meant for the forever sleep
Brought much too early to young travelers
Your streets were meant for color and beauty
I’m sorry they only shrouded you in shades of black
I hate that this is where the world sees you
It sees the worst,
The darkest corners of humanity itself–
One man convinced of his superiority
That which makes us whole
To bludgeon the man beside him
For being made a different color
For them, for us
We pray: Father heal us.