I am weary of liturgies and requiems
I’ve written to still my soul
I am weary of emerging horrors
Perpetrated by blue hearts frozen cold
I am weary of watching my babies die
As they walk the halls of hate
As they run the streets of disdain and fear
As they dance through beguiling gates
As they are ambushed by dark spirits
Seeking release for anger and power
Shadowed in corners, prepared to pounce
Brown-bodied victims of the hour
I am weary of pouring love
And not returned the cup
I am weary of loose-lipped rhetoric
That promises “Things will change. Look up.”
I am weary of waiting on others
To decide that they will do right
My gut cannot absorb the lies
Cloaked in sugary melodies and light
I am weary of watching history repeat
Politicized plagues, unmasked and militarized streets
Fashioned nooses, licensed lynchings
Fickle help on legal benches
Tears that mourn for  the opressors’ stone glory
Absolute feigned ignorance of our stories
I am weary of watching small gods strut
I am weary of crying “My God! What
would you have me to do?
Cast them down, Lord! Bring us through! “
We live in times with naked kings, and Subjects circle to let their praises ring
And right is wrong
And Evil drops the dance and song
At our feet
While we look for saviors
To orchestrate marvelous feats
And wear cloaks of perfection
So keen to live in protection
We become confused
And employ the anciently used
All or nothing familiar ruse
And flawed logic permits many to choose
Yea, choose the enemy or downright refuse
To engage in our own escape…
I am weary
I am weary
And my words, on their own, are not enough

Regina YC Garcia