Bloody Sunday

I was sitting there with my brothers and sister,

when my mother came and said "Come here little mister"

She made me get up and start to walk.

When I asked where we were going she said not to talk.

We joined a big group of people walking down the street.

We were being yelled at by the white ladies on the concrete.

I was walking down the street with a flag in my hand.

I glanced over and saw the man, something I hadn't planned.

He walked into the street and grabbed my arm.

Pulled on my flag and threatened with harm.

I tried to fight the officer holding me.

The look on his face of anger, far from glee.

Thats when the white lady drug me away.

Told me to go to my mom, or go home to play.

I went back to street and stared up at the sky.

Confused about the treatment I saw, I started to cry.

I looked to the left and still can't believe what I saw.

What those policemen were doing should not have been okay by law.

I decided to start walking, following the crowd.

When my mom called my name, echoing out loud.

Later on I learned where we were going that day,

To the bridge for what is remembered as Bloody Sunday.