For George Floyd.

Handcuffed.
Face Down.
Knee on his neck.
They did nothing.

He called the officer “Sir.”
They did nothing.

He begged for his life.
He begged for water.
He begged for mercy.
They did nothing.

His nose bled.
His body trembled.
He lost control of his bladder.
They did nothing.

He cried out, “I can’t breathe.”
They did nothing.

Twelve more times.

“I can’t breathe.”
“I can’t breathe.”
“I can’t breathe.”
“I can’t breathe.”
“I can’t breathe.”
“I can’t breathe.”
“I can’t breathe.”
“I can’t breathe.”
“I can’t breathe.”
“I can’t breathe.”
“I can’t breathe.”

They did nothing.

One last time, he gasped, “I can’t breathe.”
They did nothing.

He lost consciousness.
They did nothing.

A firefighter demanded they check his pulse.
They did nothing.

Off duty medical personnel begged them to stop.
They did nothing.

Deprived of oxygen.
His organs screaming.
His brain frantic.
They did nothing.

They watched George Floyd die.
His life fading.
A slow death.
They did nothing.

A lynching on the ground.
They did nothing