Killmonger, t’challa and I make a song

[Verse 1: will be]
the last words we heard our
fathers 1 say. the sounds of
panther claw through
flesh rip on the two and four,
explosions hum softly under
the melody, and a chemo drip
accents all of their words.
When the

[Chorus: Comes In]
the bass drops like our stomachs
at the sight of the body, like the
body into the mouth of the earth,
each line a condolence or an
apology; whichever is catchier.

we decide on a

[Refrain: &]
it sounds like vengeance,
like death unto the thing that took
our fathers away from us:
cousins, crazies, and cancer.
and to the right ears it sounds like
justice. or fear.
And the

[Outro: Is The Realization]
that sometimes we are
powerless, that we can’t save
everything or anyone,
but that never stopped us from trying.

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1 my stepfather