My black skin painted

and stained with empty tears,

eyes scanning the screen watching my

biggest fear.

Shocked, loud screams and freedom-riddened fists, punch

the air though for many many years we've been stripped

bare.

My head hangs heavy, my heart is rung.

Be sure to kiss your brothers, fathers and sons.

Don't let your soul go cold when you open your eyes

and see the saddened truth, we wish were lies.

We will find a way to heal the scars that

were whipped in our backs and mend the

broken hearts and deep cracks.

Since the day we were born and thought to be free

the Stars and Stripes suffocate all we could do was scream.

Our voices are ignored as silence rings through their ears.

The days we cry out, the yells from the megaphone are clear.

Walking, talking, laughing, existing.

The world continues to go on, my throat is bleeding, why aren't they listening?

Dig to find your patience and love in your spirit.

Though you may be numb, hoping you can bear it.

The men in the armor, assuming the worse, don't seem to

understand

that every young boy should grow into a man.

Living in fear, cowering in the corner.

The sun comes up, the air is full of mourners.

The medicine of respect is becoming limited.

The drug of hope is growing and we are soon to be addicted.

Drowning in a land of forged promises, she sits at the table

full of imaginary kisses, wanting to touch,

see and hug the one

person whose life was stolen, which was her sons.

The battle is far from over, though the books may say

"We are all created equal".

I can't wait to see that day.