ENFORCEMENT WITHOUT SHADOWS

 

Enforcement Without ShadowsI take no issue with enforcement true and just—
a shield of law, impartial, clean,
without the poison of racial profiling's sting,
without the brutal fist that crushes breath from lungs.
No shadows cast on skin tones deemed "suspicious,"
no judgments born from fear's distorted lens.
Yet adrenaline surges like wildfire through veins
of mysteriously masked men, swarming in masses,
brandishing weapons—rifles glinting under streetlights,
like a bad episode of COPS gone rogue and real.
Batons raised high, shields locked in phalanx walls,
tear gas blooming in choking clouds of chaos.
This isn't scripted drama on a flickering screen;
it's morphed into a nightmare fantasy of power unchecked,
control twisted into chains, state-sanctioned hate
unleashed against minorities marked as "other,"
their lives reduced to targets in the crosshairs.
You have to be white, a pseudo-Christian echo,all looking the same, talking in rehearsed refrains,
like Stepford Wives in mechanical perfection—
smiles plastered, eyes vacant, souls subdued.
Have babies in neat rows, take out mortgages on dreams deferred,
pay taxes to a system that demands conformity's price;
just because "they" decree it from their ivory thrones,
whispering mandates through megaphones of media and might.
Dissent is silenced, difference erased in the grind
of assimilation's relentless machine.But America is forged in diversity's fierce fire—
a mosaic of hues, tongues, and tales intertwined.
Facts don't lie; they stand unyielding like ancient oaks,
rendering feelings irrelevant in the court of truth.
The varied experiences—urban pulses, rural rhythms,
coastal waves crashing against mountain spines—
regions blending, families weaving tapestries of tradition,
communities blooming in shared struggles and joys.
This is the wealth of spirit, the gold in our collective veins,
thriving in togetherness, roots entangled deep,
branches reaching wide under one vast sky.And the biggest part of me clings to hope like a lifeline,
believing tides will turn, pulling back the waves of division,
the weather will settle into calm, sunlit horizons,
storms will pass, their thunder fading to whispers.
This hatred of "us" versus "them"—a fabricated rift,
carved by hands of greed and ignorance—
can be obliterated, shattered like brittle glass,
replaced by bridges built from empathy's stone.
In the end, we rise as one, unbound by chains of bias,
a nation healed, diverse and unbreakable.