(This dramatic poem by Caroline Donnola speaks to the tragic state of our world.)
I can’t breathe.
I can’t breathe.
I can’t breathe.
For months it was
patients of all ages
from all walks of life
who couldn’t breathe
because the coronavirus
devoured their lungs.
One hundred thousand Americans
Dead from this disease
because they couldn’t breathe.
How ironic
now that the survivors try
to return to living
it’s George Floyd
who couldn’t breathe.
One black man—
one more black man—
George Floyd couldn’t breathe.
For eight minutes
a knee on his neck.
For eight minutes
the bystanders pleaded.
For eight minutes
George Floyd begged.
How do you write a poem
about this kind of murder?
In iambic pentameter
it goes something like this:
I CAN not BREATHE
I CAN not BREATHE
I CAN’T.
First torment
then suffocation
then you are no more.
poems for friends 
Oh my. Thank you Harry and Caroline.
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Caroline…thank you for capturing this moment in history….
On Fri, May 29, 2020 at 5:27 PM poems for friends wrote:
> hkresky posted: “(This dramatic poem by Caroline Donnola speaks to the > tragic state of our world.) I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe. I can’t > breathe. For months it was patients of all ages from all walks of life who > couldn’t breathe because the coronavirus devoured their” >
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Thank you Harry.
I didn’t write this, George Floyd’s lawyer said it:
Not for just one minute Not for just two minutes Not for just three minutes Not for just four minutes Not for just five minutes Not for just six minutes Not for just seven minutes But for eight minutes
On Fri, May 29, 2020 at 5:27 PM poems for friends wrote:
> hkresky posted: “(This dramatic poem by Caroline Donnola speaks to the > tragic state of our world.) I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe. I can’t > breathe. For months it was patients of all ages from all walks of life who > couldn’t breathe because the coronavirus devoured their” >
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