HIS BLACK BOOK

I’m just a brown boy

WITH
A
BLACK
BOOK

holding on to blue feelings.

I bleed red blood

I have red eyes

bloodshot.

 

gunshot.

another friend gets killed on the street

he walks down 5th avenue and there stands a white man

holding a gun to his head.

 

THIS
BLACK
BOOK
IS
A
CEILING
THAT
I
CAN’T
BREAK
THROUGH
 

It’s a damn institution that no higher power gives a shit to fix.

Everytime I get close to feeling something different, some kind of love, I find out another hard truth.

 

My mom was diagnosed with cancer at the age of 55. 

My dad had to amputate his toe because of his addiction to sugar.

My first love is Comatose from a car crash, because a drunk driver failed to withhold his urges.

 

I’M
SICK
AND
TIRED
OF
THIS
BLACK
BOOK
 

Controlling my damn life.

Manuscript clouds my judgement, and there I stand.

The edge of tomorrow is familiar to the edge of a cliff, in my head I take a nosedive into the abyss that is an empty life.

 


LIVE
THROUGH
THIS
BOOK

 

I have the tools to fix this world;

my voice

my passion

my love

 

THIS
BLACK
BOOK
IS
MY
DAMN
WEAPON
 

here I stand in front of you today

flailing my arms around

hoping that one of you, just one, makes a decision to listen to what I have to say

before it’s too late.

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me
My family
My community
My country
Our world

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