"No Tears for the Unseen”

We mourn selectively. We forget collectively. We learn nothing.

I hate politics. But sometimes, we must stare into its broken mirror—especially when the reflection is unbearable.

Today, I mourn the death of a Ukrainian woman who witnessed her own brutal end at the hands of a man so disturbed, so unchecked, that no one was safe until she was gone. Her death is not just a tragedy—it’s a symptom. A nation shaken, yet again, by violence it refuses to understand. We ignore the sickness until it devours someone whole. And then we grieve, briefly, before forgetting. We never seem to learn.

As for the death of Charlie Kirk—I feel no tears, no tremor of sympathy. He would never have spoken to me. Not because of my words, but because of my skin. In America, whiteness often masquerades as virtue, while calling Black grief “hate.” Why should I mourn a man who would have thrown me under the bus for a soundbite?

BlackNews.com captured his legacy with brutal clarity. Kirk’s rise through Turning Point USA gave him a platform to weaponize grievance politics. He framed equity as an attack, mocked Black leaders, and sowed mistrust toward Black professionals. His death leaves a void in conservative youth organizing—but his record ensures that race, privilege, and civil rights will remain tangled in his shadow.

And yet, I know what comes next. He will be martyred. Elevated. Sanitized. That’s the way of this world—a world that’s been bleeding since Cain and Abel. A world that never stops hating, never stops killing, never stops pretending.

So I say this to my brethren, especially those who voted for Trump: pay attention. Don’t let grief be selective. Don’t let memory be manipulated. Don’t let silence be your legacy.

The only peace for man is the return of Jesus—the second coming, a date unknown. But until then, we must keep living. Keep healing. Keep tending to wounds and hearts, even when the world insists we stop.