THE BURNER

Faces just staring at me,
Hadn't they seen a black man before?
People looked like the wanted information,
But there was never any communication.
We were an isolated part of the population,
A somewhat degraded generation.
Folk had long stopped their demonstration.
Death beckoned us trees whispered my name,
Numbers branded such eternal workers pain.
As we go to get clean smoke is strangling me,
Smoke is strangling the silent sky.
I didn't want to go just yet I didn't want to die.
Children's wreathed faces weeping,
Others wishing for eternal sleeping.
Then it's my turn to smoke through the air,
By this time I greeted this I didn't care.