Hear my Voice

.I remember.

2.

I remember the noise.
The ugly screams of both men, women n children.

I remember the accident, how the sole rider had been brought down in his wasted efforts to flee.

A robbery gone right but an escape gone wrong by a split decision, he took a road he thought would lead to freedom.

I remember the gunshots, from an old hunter's rifle.

I remember the cry, the fall, the blood and the man.

I remember standing helplessly behind the safety of the gate, my head poking out and witnessing the anger of the mob. The broken man,dark skinned and bloody, begging for his life.

I remember boys not yet men, looking for tires and scavenging for fuel to burn a man they barely knew, for a crime the had all committed in their hearts.

I remember the women, mothers and girls alike crying for justice, forgetting they had sons and brothers who easily could have been him.

I remember watching and praying for a man who wouldn't pray for me as he was dragged away, towards the community gates to be burnt.

I still wonder what he had been thinking while he ran, fell, begged, cried and saw his end.

I liked to think he was rescued by the sirens before the match was struck for he's ashes didn't paint the earth.

I liked to believe he went to prison or was tried for his crimes, I liked to think justice was served but I'd never truly know.

For all I remember is a boy of barely 13 years of age witnessing first hand the wickedness of man.