1619

First black-faced to face cruelty

Too afraid to speak from the heavy chains and whips

Forcely sold and starved to death,

Bought our bodies to ashes and bones.

Dragged away from families,

haunting the minds with innocent shadows

Michael Brown

Outside the concrete sidewalks

“a colored man” selling CDs,

at the hometown corner store

“I CAN’T BREATHE”

Gunned down by privilege which

Threw him to the ground,

yet his hands reaching toward the sky

Arms locked between his head,

taking his last breath from the antagonist world

Passengers watched, recording from their phones

hoping that they might receive justice

from white privilege

Emmit the little black boy,

playing with toys in his mother's kitchen

Accused of making comments to a white woman

First they see color and nothing more

Dragged from the back of a car. Hanged.

No words were foreseen

No questions were asked

A child lost who could not be bought back

Terence Crutcher of Tulsa, Oklahoma

A traffic stop, two officers

Black man, HANDS UP,  gripped to his car

Unarmed, but still posed a threat

on a armed officer

In an instant the silver bullet slowly entered his body,

Shot down by a white woman in blue

She did not think twice

about her release on the trigger

As we surround the neighborhood

boycotting to exercise our freedom of speech

Ordering for justice

That was only once and twice,

turned into hundreds and thousands of times

Fighting back against this antagonistic world,

which we live in only to survive

Not as a symbol of rebellion,

but to attack the root of this deceptive place

We are killing our sisters and brothers

We are the “greatest country” that kills their own over accusations

We are have chance whether to improve or descend

We want the chance to be better than we ever can

Yet, when will we get the chance to