Why Is It

Sun, 07/24/2016 - 13:45 -- Zola

Why is it that my people keep dying?
Why is it that their bodies stay lying on the ground?
No! I don't want no cops around. They're the reason why I have fear in my eyes now.
When you see a cop make sure your hands are up, hell, that won't help, they'll still light us up.
"I feared for my life he had a gun." Is that the reason you took her son?
Their badge is their shield, it's what protects them. Why is it that they're never condemned?
I guess now I see what the world really is. A death sentence. We're all in prison just waiting for our turn to die.

This poem is about: 
Our world

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741