What Would Coretta Do?

There’s snow on the streets,
ice on the ground.
This city’s not as cold
when somebody’s holding you down.
Hard to make change
when you can’t make sense of it.
Hard to make peace when the silence is loud.

We run and get a piece,
thinking it’s the last days.
Or we go to church,
praying like we say grace.
Say we need the time and space to process.
But then we’re back outside on one,
like it’s recess.

Like a weight lifted off my shoulders,
they press me when I’m free.
Block me if I follow him, that’s guilty by IG.
Meanwhile she still posting pics from 2016.
Thinking, “What would Coretta do?”
I know I need somebody with me.

My stomach in knots like it’s the title game.
When the media put up headlines,
we all stay the same.
This city whispers truths,
we all numb to the sound.
Yet still we rise,
holding each other down.