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Bang!
Bang!
That is the sound of your pistol
Making a clean shot through the middle of my forehead
A silver bullet with your initials U.S.A.
For what reasons am I dead?
Is it because I looked you in the eye and made you feel intimidated?
Because my afro is too nappy for your red, white, and blue comb?
Maybe it's just because I am of color
Yes as in black, as in African decent
You once loved me when I was just a stupid, illiterate slave
You once loved me when you raped me and impregnated me
You once loved me when I was only good enough to lie on my back
But then...I was set free
I learned to read and write
I invented more than half the things you use
I lead activist groups against your hatred
I fought for my rights and became powerful
More power than you could handle
You became terrified of my power
Terrified of my beauty
Terified that I would over power you
So you figured out a way to get rid of me
Bang!
That is the sound of your pistol
Making a clean shot through the middle of my forehead
With a silver bullet initialled U.S.A.
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What inspired me to write this poem was looking at how America is portrayed as this great beautiful country. And it is but the people make it terrible and it is sad that everyone of every race, religion etc. can't just get along. I see a lot of black kids being killed everyday by cops and for reasons that didn't require weapons.