Ruthy Gordon, The Ganja Man & The People

There are many places in the ghetto
That the ganja man planted hope
There are many places in the city
That the ganja man planted dreams
But the people are hypocrites
They’re mean cowards who hide their sins
In the deepest shadow of perfection
They say “we don’t judge”
But they pointed to my door
When the police searched for the killer
The killer of Ruthy Gordon



Let me tell you about Ruthy Gordon
She visited my city because of ganja
She wanted our stories for the TV
We made Ruthy visit
Is that not a good from ganja
But the big men
The big men who feared us throwing them out of power
They got people from outside my city
To carry Ruthy 6 feet
And when her body screamed for justice
They pointed to my door
The ganja man’s door

They never robbed my city
Because they feared the ganja man
They never murdered in my city
Because they feared the ganja man
I protected the church!
The church that harbored the adulterous, the fornicator, the corrupt
But when the police knocked on my door
They all shouted “catch him”
The ganja man protected everyone
But he had no protection
Now watch my city perish
Because they touched an innocent man
When I get to prison
I’ll tell them how it’s unsafe out here
Because they killed Ruthy Gordon
For speaking the ganja man’s language
~ A poem by Alby Nana Cady