My death won't be covered
No obits, no pictures
No profiles with a catalogue of dreams
No 3000 word essays in the New Yorker
Maybe an inch in the local paper
My death wont be covered
I am not sexy enough
I am not white enough
I am not interesting enough
Unless they can pin something on me
My death won't be covered
My blood isn't red enough
My grief isn't relatable enough
My life isn't worth enough
Maybe it is not fashionable enough
My death won't be covered
Public executions don't draw crowds
Private ones cost a fortune
Poverty is a boon after all
Not everyone has company in the grave after all
My death won't be covered
I don't have a name or even a number
I don't have a home or even a shroud
I don't have a bomb or even a cause
Or a mortgage to buy a few minutes of respite
My death won't be covered
And i won't even be remembered
But my oppressor will be celebrated
His pain will be taught in schools
While,
My death won't be covered
And I won't even be remembered
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