They say I lay there for four hours
In a puddle of black blood
To me, it felt like minutes, seconds
There will never be enough time
For me to comprehend
What happened, why it happened
It was my fault for being there
I was wrong for being a black man
And for the black blood running through my veins
Was I wrong for the black blood
That sunk into the asphalt
Like tears into a pillow
Was I wrong for the nauseating stench
Like rotting iron
That hovered in the air for four hours
Blood so dark and flowing
It spilled from my head like water
Glistening and purple in the pale, constant sunlight
It tried to run, a part of me almost free
But it stuck to the concrete
Drowning in defeat
It sat for hours, turning thick like syrup
Getting blacker by the moment
Too black for anyone to care
I try to imagine how it must have felt
When the only part left of me
Was rinsed from the street with water
How it felt when the cold water
Met my hot, angry blood
And the two became one
Maybe the drops of black blood
Seeped into the cracks of the street
Forever hidden away like the sins of injustice
Maybe my name will go down in history
With the others
Who were martyred for having black blood
Or maybe it was my fault.
They say the neighbors turned in horror
Away from my dying body
That begged for mercy in their streets
The image was so graphic
A real black man
Perishing just yards away
A picture that will remain forever
No one will remember who I was
Or who I wanted to be
When time has passed
All that the neighbors will remember
is Brown’s black blood
Hey It's Tay 