Having
dissected,
inspected and
claimed to erected
A man who only owed us a game of golf
One wonders when the killin’s done
When the sport of making fun
Has finally run
Its course
No more blood in the water
Interesting how just a bit ago
In fact now even so
The electronic noose
Encircled another brother
Yes, he was wrong as we discover
But it comes down
to when is enough?
Just how long do we leave them hanging
On someone else’s tree?  
The difference for us
It just as easy could be
You…or me.
Chappelle understood
What they had to say
So he got up
and walked away
Rather than be
Arrayed
Displayed
Dismayed
On the platinum plantation.
They called him crazy…
Deluded
And lazy…
Drugged out?
Had to be
A platinum plantation
And you choose to be free?
though he didn’t do a damn thing wrong…
he was
inspected,
dissected,
until he chose
to disconnect it
all.
On his terms.
When you knock yourself down
How do you rise when
Folks be standing on you then
Decide that you need to be walked on
One more time.
Vicarious sins heaped upon  
Upon one
In place of one
Who long since fled
But is still in our head
Not yours to forgive
Nor mine.
Letting go of the notion
That time
is not a one-way street
Going in the opposite direction
No bell can be unrung
No pain can be undone
But healing can come
If you let it.
Second chances
Not an equaled opportunity
Some get them
Some don’t
Apparently.
Who chooses?
And when?
But then again
In the darkness of snow
The waters are angry
And hungry for blood.

(c)12/09 E. Joyce Moore