A Hymn – On the Death of Dolla
The Death of Dolla
For Roderick Anthony Burton II
[Chorus:] A young poet died yesterday
The L.A. sky turned shadowy gray
And as I watched him sing his songs
My eyes grew misty, at such wrongs
It keeps replaying in my mind all day
For a young poet died yesterday
He came and went, like a thunderbolt
I read a post online from some wiseass dolt
“You live a thug life, you die a thug life. Whatever”
It takes a special coldness of the soul to sever
In yourself the poet’s gentle embrace
To be deaf to words with a human face
[Chorus:] A young poet died yesterday
The L.A. sky turned shadowy gray
And as I watched him sing his songs
My eyes grew misty, at such wrongs
It keeps replaying in my mind all day
For a young poet died yesterday
For the death of young rapper Dolla, I intone
One and twenty years and your flesh is stone
Coldness sweeps away your warm voice
Gone is the lark, all that’s left is the city noise
So short was the time immortality to reach
And yet at death’s door my heart you touch
[Chorus:] A young poet died yesterday
The L.A. sky turned shadowy gray
And as I watched him sing his songs
My eyes grew misty, at such wrongs
It keeps replaying in my mind all day
For a young poet died yesterday
But there will be those, there always are
For whom poetry is an art removed far
You sang the words “It feels good to be American”
And my heart to shreds tore when I heard them
“Who says you can’t buy time?”
You just did Dolla, in that song, in that rhyme
[Chorus:] A young poet died yesterday
The L.A. sky turned shadowy gray
And as I watched him sing his songs
My eyes grew misty, at such wrongs
It keeps replaying in my mind all day
For a young poet died yesterday
Los Angeles is colder for having lost your song
When a poet dies, the world goes horribly wrong
Shot, murdered by a bullet’s callous accuracy
Plucked from the earth, no more to hear or see
I mourn for you, fellow poet, Dolla, rapper
I Konrad feel your loss, fellow poet, brother.
[Chorus:] A young poet died yesterday
The L.A. sky turned shadowy gray
And as I watched him sing his songs
My eyes grew misty, at such wrongs
It keeps replaying in my mind all day
For a young poet died yesterday
