Renisha

Renisha (This poem is dedicated to Renisha McBride, a Detroit teenager who was murdered by a man who is using the defense of “Stand Your Ground”.) He embodies a product of lies He is a disciple of discrimination He epitomizes the epidemic of racial unease That is infecting the national population But his name is irrelevant The point is not Who did what The assailant should never be Immortalized The point, if you forgot Is her side What she would’ve seen Through her eyes Renisha Rest in peace, and Rest assured You have not died in vain Your martyrdom was established When the blood from your veins Spilled like red rain On that Dearborn Heights porch Of course, no amount of remorse Will bring proper recourse, cuz One thing That needs to be realized Is that there is only one Renisha McBride Only one little girl who Made her daddy cry Made her mama die inside Made her sisters ask “Why? Why was she seen Through that front door screen As a criminal, a robber, a thief When help was her only need?” He disregarded your life Like a drug dealer would For that of a common crack fiend’s And you were only nineteen It was already enough That your auto accident occurred A mile away November 2 was just not your day All you were trying to find Was a place to stay Until the dizziness, the pain Did not become a source of shame And if the blood alcohol level wasn’t to blame You committed a DWB “Driving While Black” ain’t officially a crime, but If it were, you would've been Doing the time These are all logical fallacies of the mind Hasty generalizations And as a result, this generation Has seen the rise Of specific stereotypes: Renisha, you’re not a gang leader You’re not a run-of-the-mill preacher You’re not a NFL wide receiver Or a concrete jungle creature Renisha, you’re a teacher You've informed those gang leaders, preachers, Receivers, and creatures that, Although Detroit is over 80% Black They still gotta watch their backs As if it isn’t sad enough That their city has nearly turned into A barren wasteland And yet, this suburban man Thought he had it bad Thought he was being robbed By Black hands But he obviously did not understand: Standing your ground cannot be a defense When the ground you stand on Is being shared with a woman Who is completely weaponless But, I digress, cuz you Must have had faith That people could not be so cruel As to only judge based on your face The color of your skin Did not relate to the heart within The intent of the knock Was not to fluster or shock All you wanted Was for the door to unlock On that early autumn morning At 4 o'clock But your killer's resolve was as solid As Ashford & Simpson’s rock What kind of twisted train of thought Made him take out his Glock And pull the trigger Before he could even reconsider? I bet he never even noticed The shadow of a smile on your cheeks All he felt was relief To see you off his Street But Renisha You were not hunters prey, An animal to be slain Or a token victim for opponents Of the NRA You were just you, everyday And your memory lives on: You will not be another Jordan, or Trayvon Justice will be served Before long