Daunte, the Truth is...

When I saw the news of your killing, my eldest son came to mind

And how much you look like him, so now our three souls are aligned

Truth is…my father used to preach, to be wary of police

For he was also a child of their breach, of their promises to keep peace

He made me promise that I stay alive, lessons he taught through my  adolescence

He believed for me to survive,  I was to be obedient in their presence

In my half-century of life, I’ve lost count of young black men

Who have been senselessly killed, knowing it will happen again…and again

Truth is…I trembled when I saw the news, you look so much like my boy

He is 5 years your senior, my firstborn…he is my joy

Daunte, I wept for your mother, who shed tears in front of a nation

And the pain your father feels, is beyond my imagination

Truth is…I wish I could just do it, to turn back time

So that I could protect you, and others with the same demise

Young men like Xzavier Hill and Fredrick Cox, both only 18 years young

Others like McHale Rose and Joshua Feast, all four killed by an officer’s gun

There are others like Maurice Gordon, who was pepper-sprayed before being killed

And then there is Casey Goodson Jr.,  only 23 years of age, his potential now unfulfilled

Truth is…if this was paper I was writing on, tears would surely have drenched the page

Digital tears now attempt to depict, my own anger and my rage

I twice ran for public office, as a mechanism to create change

Should we continue to be cautious, or allow our frustration out its cage?

Daunte, the truth is…I don’t know what to do, or how I will do it

But I promise to keep trying, to find a clever path and go through it

The possibilities life had in store for you, heaven had plans for your existential

Truth is…I will never forget you and the others,  as my living son embodies your potential