Why must we
Observe these bleeding bodies
On the floorboards of restless ancestors
Whose lives were tainted by the scoreboard of oppression?
And we sit behind
A phone and find
That while we feel the same
The ones to blame are never accounted for.
It is so easy to leave the queasy feeling
Of death and endangerment at the door
If it does not follow you, tattooed on your skin.
Otherwise, your life is a perpetual hunting game.
Everyone thinks they understand
Everyone thinks they can relate
Everyone thinks they are mistreated
Everyone thinks they bear the hate
But the hated are silenced by death and devastation.
Our voices are robbed in the legal burglary of freedom
Our patience is embezzled by greedy ostriches in the sand
Our hearts are stolen as ancestors have been
Our life is taken with no repayment.
Our tweets are louder than our voices are louder than our actions
It's as though it's popular to say you're against something, rather than to
Actually be against it.
Where are we?
We share these fears, these hopes, these desires.
We want a world of freedom, of unity, of safety.
Why are we not binding and bonding over bettering our lot?
Why are we fighting and foolishly floundering our shot?
Together - why are we not?
They look at me and deem me naive
That I am unlike them and don't understand
But our skin color matches and our spirits share latches
Because we share the fear of death at hatred's hand.
And yet my existence is not enough.
They do not trust my experiences.
Rarely believing that I understand the plight
Unknowingly attempting to silence
Someone who has to keep herself silent
To avoid conflict with family and friends.
Maybe I recognize these
Experiences people perceive me to be blind to.
Maybe they just need to...