Waking Up Call

So my identity is apparently the target on the balck dots for your gunsot.

Wait let me rephrase myself, GUNSHOTS!

And i say that in humility wit the hunger for justice that seems scarce in the streets of a coloured man's world.

But your hunger comes from the uniform that sits your body with a badge that protects you from the lives you slaughtered.

Caliming your plea to be self defense where was the defense when you mistaked surrender as a chance for you to practice on a human body as your own personal gun range.

Did you feel as empty as that glock pistol after consciencously pulling the trigger, laying to rest another brother, son, father or husband.

All which could have been avoided if youd been a REAL MAN!

Then again our society has managed to flip the script on the definition of a man.

Today a mans power of a man comes from pounding his naked fists into the face of another.

Or having the pride to say " i fucked him up!"

In my eyes a man is someone who can be able to;

Show his power with his words,

Destroying you with his intelligence.

Rather than a fistfull of rage, ready to end a life because the motivation of hate runs so thick withins his veins.

The scorn explodes quicker than a blood thirsty bullet,

Waitig to escape its shell to put another in a body bag.

Correct me if i'm wrong

But my data seems to remind there has been 15,000 lives claimed in this year alone.

708 being kids,

334 being teens,

3147 being teens,

All from gun violence.

Let's not forget the favor the justice system seeems to give the whites,

With the escape ticket of an insaity plea;

Whille a black man is five times more likely to incarserated.

All because the beauty of his melanin skin runs as thick as tar painting his body,

Painting his body, labelling him to be a coloured individual.

So who are we to say ' All Lives Matter'.

This poem is about: 
Me
My country
Our world

Comments

Starasia James

Enjoy. Hope you understand where i come from. A place of experience

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