Neglect Fatigue Syndrome

Neglect Fatigue Syndrome
by Maurece L. Graham

I don't want to love no more,
I've loved all that I can
This ain't no march for Blake
I'm Black
I can walk til they name a street after me
legislate til they put my name on a plaque
get arrested til the system cracks
talk til I can't breathe
and still this place won't love me

I don't want to love no more
you equivocate every time I die
and only ask why
I kill myself too,
never acknowledging the arrows
pointed at you
I'm a talking point in your news
something that validates your views
of my death being justified no matter
how I died

No, I don't want to love no more
you mock my soulful pleas
snicker if I'm liberal
snub my misery
by listening to someone else tell my story
like my plight is a policy
able to change with a stroke of your opinion

I don't want to love no more
Dr. King loved much greater than me
John Lewis got beat much
worse than me
we've forgotten more of their love
than I'll ever have to give
why should I love anymore
when you've treated even them
like this.

This is a poem written by my friend and penpal of 4 years. I am honored to share space with an imprisoned Black poet. He wrote the poem; I chose and am responsible for the image/flyer content and everything else which accompanies it.

rich countries

today, while sewing equipment for nurses

(like someone I once read about in a textbook)

from the comfort of my home I learned that

the local convention center

(where earlier this year I celebrated the legacy of Martin Luther King with a sales meeting)

will be converted into a “field hospital”

“A worker checks coffins, most of them containing the bodies of coronavirus victims, in the parking of a funeral parlor in Barcelona, Spain, April 2.” REUTERS/Nacho Doce