Dear Listeners,  We find

Dear Listeners,

 

We find it worthwhile,

To tell you that,

He was a father,

But he was Black.

He was a husband,

But he was Black.

He was a brother,

But he was Black.

He was a friend,

A classmate,

A teammate,

A lover,

But he was Black.

 

Because he was Black,

He was, therefore, nothing.

Because he was Black,

He was worthless.

Because he was Black,

His murder was justified as,

“Self-defense.”

 

His slayer was innocent,

But never proven Guilty.

He was born Black,

Therefore he was born Guilty.

He was born Black,

Therefore he died,

Innocently.

 

In these times of crisis,

We often find ourselves in tears.

Wondering:

Has Lady Justice truly lost her blindfolds?

Is Her sword only sharpened for the chosen?

Does Her scales topple under the weight of color?

Do They misjudge the Feather of truth?

For he was Black,

But he was also a brother.

  

This poem is about: 
My country

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741