Another goddamn hashtag that will get lost among others.
Another black man, another body to lay. Another name crossed off, another tally on an infinite hit list.
Another name they'll forget.
Another video to watch.
Another like.
Another share.
Another victory for them.
They'll make us forget by adding another victory to their lists.
They'll make sure we end our day in burials and vigils.
They'll make sure our happiness is short lived, our lives short lived.
More anger.
More frustration.
More confusion.
More desperation.
Our lives seem to have a time stamp and every day could be our last.
Our faith is running low,
Calling on a God they told us to believe in.
So we continue to raise our arms in prayer,
Continue to raise our arms in fear.
Continue to raise our arms as ammunition fills our lungs.
Continue to raise our hands with blood seeping through the very cotton we were brought to pick.
Continue to raise our hands in surrender,
In peace.
Surrendering my body to the Devil himself.
The people before me raised their hands.
So I'll raise my hands,
My unborn children will raise their hands,
My grandchildren will raise their hands.
A never ending cycle of waving
a white flag,
To a white man,
In white clothing,
In white America.
YOU ARE READING
Woman.
PoetryA book of poems and feelings. A book from a girl, a rose from the concrete. A Woman growing.
