Tribute to George Floyd by a Zimbabwean poet

First let me start by a moment of silence . . .

As one of the latter-days Pan-Africanists, Afro-optimists and African romanticist,
I am in pain.
The pain caused by the global apartheid.
Yes i am black, so he was George Floyd.

Having washed his hands, put on his mask and gloves. . .
Observing all the covid19 restrictions and measures,
Only to be killed by another human being
Painful, sad and pernicious!

I haven’t known him during the days of his life
Neither did he knew anything about me
But this black attachment i share with him is worthy argonising.
This black colour is surely beautiful,
For whiteness betrays.
If you think i lie then listen very carefully

Having cried out for his life, the white policemen insisted on his neck.
Having cried out for his late mom for help, the police officer retreated not.
Having shouted i can’t breathe, the policemen and his cronies, acted the less.
Imagine what a betrayal, helping someone to cheat his dear life.
To make matters worse, in exchange for death.
Quite unprecedented in the history of modern civilisation.
It popped unto me that, this white colour sure betrays.

I am not a racist, neither am i a sadist to bring mixed feelings on the faces of my readers.
But, i am on the side of humanity.
However, if killing the black people is justified then am more than racist.
The right to life was among other inalienable rights effected in Philadelphia, America in 1776.
Among these was the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.
These rights had no categorization when they were effected.
They were effected to protect everyone on the American soils.
Then why George Floyd?
Is it because he was a Black American?

What crime has he had committed which deserves death by punitive action?
What authority does other creatures have, to draw lines in the sand
That other people may go shortly,
And very quick like this, to meet with their ancestors?

I have since started running short of kindness
Allow me to end here, brother Floyd.
The world has done what it can to fight for your justice.
With banners inscribed, ‘justice for Floyd’
But surely the truth is that your justice is in the hands of your maker.
He knows when to strike and not to strike!
Thus, you be patient till the time is ripe.

Yours. . .
The disgruntled by your unfortunate death.
Brother in colour similarities.
And a hater of colour defferentiation amongst men
‘We’ of the negrohood race, are not at easy!
MYDSRIEP George Floyd.

Robert Chiwadzwa is an artist and poet who writes on his capacity

Tendai Guvamombe