Too much red on we flag these days,
Not from pride, but from where de body lays.
Gunshots echo ‘pon de midday sun,
Another life lost, another soul done.
My spirit cry when I hear de sound,
Sirens scream as blood stain de ground.
Another youth, another dream gone dead,
Another mother bawling, clutching her head.
Remember when fists used to settle de fight?
Now it’s guns and knives in broad daylight.
What happen to reason? What happen to care?
Now we live in fear, death always near.
Blue, black, and yellow, de colours we praise,
Symbols of strength, of hope, brighter days.
But red drown dem out in de newspaper ink,
And we sinking fast, more than we think.
31 homicides… and 22 by gun,
How many more before dem see what we become?
Can’t ignore it…can’t just look away,
We losing we youth more every day.
I hear a mother cry, voice full of pain,
Knowing her child won’t come home again.
Just yesterday he was laughing, full of light…
Now he gone, taken by another street fight.
Why dem don’t change de law, deal with the gate?
Tighten de borders before it’s too late.
Guns slipping in like de tide on de shore,
And once dey inside, death knocking pon door.
Cost of living high, pressure pon we neck,
And desperation driving people to wreck.
Still, no excuse for taking a life…
Each pull of a trigger cuts like a knife.
This paradise bleeding, can’t you see?
Not just land, we losing we unity.
We need leaders bold, and justice fair,
We need to feel safe just breathing air.
So rise up Barbados, don’t let we fall,
Enough of de silence. It’s time to call.
Not just for peace, but for action too!
To bring back de pride in de yellow, black, and blue.
– Karina Goodridge, president of Friends of Democracy and concerned citizen.
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