This is what me and my friends used to sing while playing hop-scotch, when we were no more than 5. Ferguson reminds me of my home town. The yellow lights. Those jackets. The guns. The fear, some thing you could taste like it was sweat in the air. The dusty road. The semi-middle class shops along with no money.[rest is REDACTED]
A deadly night awaits us, and we cannot pretend we didn't want it, before. That we aren't complicit in seeing it reflected in our eyes. But then, no matter how dark the night, the sun always shines. And yes, it gets tired. And then it sleeps.And night engulfs us, spreads under our sheets and paints our minds and hearts and souls. But the sun still rises, and burns away the night. Every single time it sleeps, but it never fails to burn it away.
Have hope. Beautiful things exist, just look in the mirror. So let the night come. We might get broken, but we will not fall. We will rise every time, and burn it away. And when night is thick, we shall still light fires, and lamps, and light bulbs. And we will burn it all down.