Red Riding Hoodie by Lillie Lindsay

My guest blogger today is Lillie Lindsay, an analyst for Hewlett-Packard and a Samsung Experience Consultant for Samsung Telecommunications.

Lillie shared this poem with me, and I asked for permission to share it here as an example of how we are often moved to write in response to what is going on in the world around us.

Enjoy!

Red Riding Hoodie by Lillie Lindsay

Let me tell the story of a goodie goodie,
A shortie by the name of Red Riding Hoodie,
She would take her Big Mama food for supper,
Make sure she was good and get up with her.

One evening she and granny were watching television,
She said, "Big Mama may I have permission to leave,
I will come right back."
Little Red just wanted to buy some snacks,

Granny gave her a look of concern,
She called Little Red very close to her,
She said, "Little Red, please listen good."
When walking throughout the neighborhood,
I don't want you to say a word,
Get your snacks, and get back here girl.

Granny was a little concerned,
It was not quite night, but she was worried,
She was not worried about the birds or the bees,
There was a crazy woodcutter, a vigilante.
He walked around with an ax,
Late into the night you would hear the wood crack.

Everyone thought he was a nut,
He thought he was protecting with every tree that he cut,
Every tree that fell to the ground,
Made such a terrible sound,
Their last sight would be the ax you see,
Held on by a piece of wood .....wood just like me.

Little Red was on her cell phone,
When she used it, she did not feel alone,
All she wanted was some candy and tea,
She and Granny would get back to watching TV.

Out of nowhere came the woodcutter,
He saw the Red Hoodie, and knew he had to cut her,
Cut her life short, "Racoon.” he sang,
He thought, "She is a member of the Pyru Bloods gang."

The next part gets confusing,
He told Little Red he would give her a bruising,
All we know is her life was lost,
He went back to the woods .......to the woods,
So he could gather his thoughts.

Next he built a website,
He said people, give me money,
Give me money if you like the way I smoked a child down in cold blood,
Then the money, the money, the money did flood.

Next, he stood before the magistrate,
He said, “Please your honor I just can’t wait in a cell with a criminal element.
The judge said, “Dude, that is irrelevant.”
Then they called,
Then they called,
Then they called in the witnesses..

She couldn’t read cursive so they said she was witless.
Tell me what kinda,
What kinda,
What kinda sense is this?
When the young lady can speak 4 different languages.

They had a jury of his peers,
They witnessed carnage, blood and violence
They didn’t give him any years,
Leaving the nation torn with tears in silence.

Emmett was a tree cut down,
When he fell, no one else even heard the sound,
He made the shelter called civil rights,
Our parents took up that fight.

Trayvon was a tree as well,
He too was cut down, his story I tell,
He made a shelter too strong for hate,
A beating heart full of love awaits.

A shot to the heart couldn’t kill,
A spirit of love and goodwill,
HE watches us all from above,
Now we all stand our ground on love.
--
Lillie Lindsay

Do you want to read about why Lillie wrote this poem?

Talking to Lillie Lindsay