H.A.T.E. (Hoodies Aren't the Enemy)

Let me be the first to state that Hoodies Aren’t The Enemy. Let me be the fourteenth to reiterate that this was a different Martin but he suffered the same fate. Along with the many, like Alawadi, whose hijab absorbed the lifeblood that makes you and I the same. All the while the perpetrator remains sponsored, uncontested, and without blame. As the only credible surviving witness to the crime, I demand that the Hoodie take the stand. Have Hatred approach the prosecuting seat. Hold Lady Liberty in contempt of the court, for her ears are still deaf to Wall Street. Be certain Troy Davis stops by to witness if the punishment fits the crime or if the biased system will make an exception this time. Drag in the accomplice, for Ignorance must also be tried. Build a jury comprised of Anne Frank, Matthew Shepard, and other youths that have died. Silence the courtroom as the Hoodie will now speak, testifying as though one’s word were stuck on repeat. “He’d put me on when it drizzled. Took me off when he dribbled. Never packed a pistol. Only a pack of skittles.” “He’d put me on when it drizzled. Took me off when he dribbled. Never packed a pistol. Only a pack of skittles.” “He’d put me on when it drizzled.” “Took me off when he dribbled.” “Never packed a pistol.” “Only a pack of skittles.” “Never had I thought of myself as the fabric of preconception. Or a trend that one would tread behind, suspiciously despised. But once KKK sets sight on YKK, those like Zimmer can’t see past zipper and the klueless klutch their k’s, in Justice’s name. Even, nine eleven couldn’t save your life, because emergency calls get hijacked by the dark of the night. Yes, nine one one couldn’t even save his life.” Then the Hoodie, still bullet-riddled, then exposed his broken heart−−−a fabric tear in the middle. Closing with infinite tears and finite lines that testified “He’d put me on when it drizzled. Took me off when he dribbled. Never packed a pistol. Only a pack of skittles.” SheSpeaks © 2012