Lessons for my Black Children

Why do we raise them so hard?

Build walls of granite, stone

armor so thick we can no longer

see the beauty of their dark skin tone.

The struggle is real and very alive. 

Teach them to strive for the top

while you know they will never reach it.

How can we direct this poison

this fury?

How do we live like this

when the acid of injustice burns holes

into the goodness we are born with,

drips from our tear ducts like rain

searing our cheeks

leaving scars tracking the pain

caused to our children?

So, anger is our spark to action.

A fire that propels us

like a rocket into the pitch black night

sky where we are above all the petty bullshit

and shine like the stars.

Smile with a  joy so natural, instinctual

the acid is expelled on the air

of our laughter.