Why aren’t we crying?
To the editor:
They’re screaming in the streets
And holding up their signs.
Belligerent and angry,
They invite us to their vines.
A poor black man is dead,
A cop is in the cuffs.
But they are still a screaming
This is surely not enough.
So burn, and loot and steal
And raise the city dead.
Tear it down for George.
Our anguish is our bread.
But when the rioting’s over
And all hot tempers cool,
We’ll look into the mirror
And realize we’re the fool.
Richard Greene
New Ulm