Surburbia

I will not perjury myself in a court of law. I will not lie under oath. In God's name. In liberty. In justice for all. Or so I thought. Little did I know I'd have a knife in my back and a bullet through my chest for walking down the suburbs. A unsuspectin target like a deer in the woods. Yet unlike a deer in the woods I don't belong in the suburb. I'm seen as conniving thief or some sort of thug. But not a human being. Some irrelevant  minority. Another negro in the street born and raised by the hood. No father. A young prostitute of mother, No God on my side. And no higher power reaching to my name. But I swear to you I am different. I am an individual. I am human. You may kill me inhumanely. You may have owned my people. But tables have turned. Its our turn to beat the stereotypes. Become better with this opportunity to better ourselves and future. Dr. King had a dream but I have a vision. That one day my people will stop being judge. Stop being profile. And stop the sufferance. Yet when will my vision become reality. Because I'm still under the chains of discrimination for not being fair skinned. But my message to you is to look around and better yourself or you'll end up like me. Shot in same old suburbia for no God damn reason. With yo people wearing R.I.P shirt and having candlelight vigils. There was no tombstone for another street nergo in suburbia.