Stop And Search

Stop And Search . When they stop & search you, Do they mock your virtue, Do they flock to hurt you, Do you wish it weren’t true, . It’s the cops with smirks who, Are hot to disturb you, For breaking that unwritten curfew Of walking the streets late, Black Boy, How dare you? . Cos when they stop & search Us, They GOT to work us, They knock & lurch us, With rotten surplus, . It like we’ve got to purchase, Pride to block the nervous, Chills that spill when police sirens shrill Us into a state of alertness, Until they pass by.... whew, What a circus, . Why don’t they stop & search those Who rock their work clothes, The White collar shirts sewn, It plots & lurks low, . Boost stock from work phones, On yachts or planes flown Wall street has many wolves, Yet no cops descend when they roam . Is it cos we ain’t got the same jobs, Come from the same backgrounds, Or speak with the same tones, . You see I try & Stop & Search for, The feeling that there’s more, Behind the demeaning we endure, When the police harass the poor, . Some kind of healing must restore, A greater understanding from the core, For once we lose sight of our humanity, It becomes feasible to go to war, . So one day, I just hope & pray, That we all may be able to say, That they won’t EXCESSIVELY, Stop & Search us no more . (c) Mr Gee