A cycle

Abuse brings abuse

The cycle creates psychos

And will continue

To apprehend you

Even while you smile

The vile style 

Is not easy to hide 

We dive into our psyche 

And see stressful times

Either running, crying

Living like you're dying

And trying to defy

These ties with terror

Only brings you to break the mirror

Cuz it was already cracked

And perhaps looking back

You'll see being black

Had a huge impact

On the why you had 

So much weight on your back

The fact my mom

Suggest I should be strapped

When water guns for fun

Weren't allowed to be touched by her son

When he was very young

Makes me wonder how far we've come

And what has truly begun

Other than a crazy child on the run

 

This poem is about: 
My country

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