Poetry (nonmonetized)
Elegy for the Unarmed
Daily Special 22: Elegy
This is an elegy for Trayvon, who was armed with skittles and a hoodie.
This is an elegy for Tamir, a twelve-year-old with a toy gun.
This is an elegy for seven-year-old Aiyana, who was asleep on the couch.
This is an elegy for Eric, a horticulturist who wasn’t selling cigarettes.
This is an elegy for Michael, with his hands up.
This is an elegy for Renisha, who knocked on a door to get help.
This is an elegy for Sandra, who did not signal a lane change.
This is an elegy for Samuel, who was missing a license plate.
This is an elegy for Corey, who called for a tow truck.
This is an elegy for Freddie, in the back of a police van.
This is an elegy for Rekia, who was making noise in a park.
This is an elegy for Philando, who disclosed he had a legal firearm.
This is an elegy for Ahmaud, who was out for a jog.
This is an elegy for Botham, who was eating ice cream in his own apartment.
This is an elegy for George, suspected of using a counterfeit $20 bill.
This is an elegy for Rayshard, who fell asleep in his car.
This is an elegy for Atatiana, who left the front door open.
This is an elegy for Breonna, whose boyfriend had a warrant out.
This is an elegy for Daunte, stopped for a traffic violation.
This is an elegy for Janisha and Michelle and Tanisha and Ejaz and Sandy and Regis and Chantel and D’Andre and Daniel and Victor, who needed a mental health wellness check.
This is an elegy for Ezell, who had the mental capacity of an eight-year-old.
This is an elegy for Jeremy, who was in a wheelchair.
This is an elegy for Tyisha, who was unconscious and foaming at the mouth.
This is an elegy for Timothy and Malissa and Kurt and Charley and Brandon and Albert and Wayne and Robert and Tyrell, who were unhoused.
This is an elegy for Clementa, Cynthia, Susie, Ethel, Depayne, Tywanza, Daniel, Sharonda, and Myra, who went to a black church.
This is an elegy for Casey, who was holding a Subway sandwich.
This is an elegy for Andre, who was holding a cell phone.
This is an elegy for Stephon, who was holding a cell phone.
This is an elegy for Donnie, who was holding a cell phone.
This is an elegy for Flint, who was holding a cell phone.
This is an elegy for a hundred others — hundreds of others. This is an elegy for the unfilmed. This is an elegy for the unremembered. This is an elegy for the covered-up.
This is an elegy for your innocence. This is an elegy for the children forced to witness. This is an elegy for police procedure. This is an elegy for de-escalation training. This is an elegy for safety. This is an elegy for peace.
This is an elegy for justice, which has been missing for a long time.
You can help by donating to Black Lives Matter, the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU), the National Bail Fund Network, or local bail funds across the United States. If you’re in the UK, check out this list of anti-racist charities and organizations.
Thank you to Ravyne Hawke for today’s poetry prompt: “Elegy.”
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