Dear Stephen,
It’s April 22, and I think about you
I’m young at 23, but you were only 18
Could have been an architect or an athlete
But you were murdered by hate on a South London street
Robbed of the chance of achieving your dreams
It’s 2022 now, that was 1993
Much time has passed, but even today, I feel like it could still be me
Your parents are so strong, I can’t imagine the pain
For 19 years long, they fought for justice, that’s insane
Some people are still racist, but you started a change
It’s been every day since, that we honour your name
Would’ve been 47, instead, you’re in heaven
Rest in Power, King Stephen, we pray that soon there’ll be real progression
