Written by:
Maria Hernandez
(For the Martyrs of the July 30, 1866 Massacre by police and white mobs of Delegates to and Supporters of Louisiana's Constitutional Convention)
My feet are tired.
My mind is weary.
I hear shots fired.
My soul is leaving.
I tried to make a change.
The few that listened are here beside me.
None of us will wrinkle up or come of age.
From this there is no hiding.
Blood flows from me like a river.
I am full of holes but unafraid.
It feels like my shell is getting empty; that's probably why I've started to shiver
I am paying the ultimate price for saying what I said.