Black skin, bullseye 

 

I lay by Emmitt's grave next to a hill  

Gun in hand. Eyes so clouded by malice tears,  

Militant thoughts radiate off of the pigment of my skin,  

black as the soil that lays like a blanket over my fallen brother's casket,  

 

 

I sit by trayvon's grave,  

Another gun placed in my cousin Martin's hand, skittles placed in mine  

eyes no longer clouded, more enraged,  

Our skin no more of pigment but pigment turned bullseye  

 

 

I stand by Rumain Brisbon, Tamir Rice, michael brown, Cameron Tillman, VonDerrit Myers Jr., Laquan McDonald, Jeffrey Holden,  

And all the other black boys whose lives were taken by colors they pledge alliance to everyday, Graves.  

With men who share the gift turned burden of the black cape god wrapped around our bodies,we look to each other,  whose next?