I wanted to write a poem, a poem about injustice, no indictment, about what black life meant, then I realized I better have enough paper for every black and brown person terrorized, sodomized, left died on and in streets...even go as far back as our ancestor hanging in trees...because a poem with a list of names would turn this poem...epic, and the story it would tell would amount to years of fear...an oppressor allowed to destroy and serve the needs of anyone but the victimized...why do we get criminalized, criticized, and condemned...I would mention Bill Cosby, but you've already began a different kind on murder on him, but sha tem...me amour, this could never be, although hand in hand is how we tell our youngest kids to be, until the reality sets in, and in concrete jungles, even them kids on jungle gyms don't get to cross the monkey bars before being shot...12 seconds in, blood in sand play gun in hand and die ins don't account for all the countless people dying at the hands of the corrupt cop, the set you up to shut you up cop, the I will bust you up...bust a glock, then figure out WHAT to say cop, the cop that is as trigger happy as a beautician with scissors, as scared as a white woman clinching her purse, as excited on an adrenaline rush as a kid at Christmas...ya'll don't get it, I wanted to write a poem, a poem about injustice, no indictment, about what black life meant, then I realized I better have enuff paper to talk about driving while, walking while, eating while, playing while, shopping while, being scared while, being at home while...all BEING BLACK, has to now come with a updated survival guide, and don't get in a car accident and need help from a neighbor...he'll shoot thru the door and claim me as a female threatened his life...wait, that wasn't a cop tho...and that's why this poem, won't work yo, cause of the countless atrocities that daily leave black and brown bodies in the street, how do we count the ones that are loss senselessly at the hands of our own, It has to be said, and yeah, even in this NOT A POEM, there are millions of black on black crimes and that amasses to a million loss black lives...and we have to talk about the cause, the root, the stem...the TRUTH, or where it comes from...what can we do to change the culture of CARE LESS UNTIL IT"s A COP KILLING MY KID...until its' SNITCHES ARE STANDARD PLACE....See I was going to write a poem, a poem about injustice, no indictment, what black life meant and I realized the problem is bigger than the page, more controversial than the CIA...wait...does anyone see the correlation, I was sitting here patiently waiting for someone to notice the ties between the two, see I can't pause a poem for you to have enough time to, see I was going to write a poem, place it all on FB, let ya'll faces look and hope we can get change, but a word on a screen will not enrage you, take you to step 3 skipping step 2...you will continue to do you...and well, I can't breathe thinking about where no breathe on the issue will get us, and how I wanted to write a poem.
