There lies the abandoned park bench
We sat there a year ago

Now stained with infinite dust, rain
Pouring torrents of strange anger and

Pulsing sorrow- a heaving chest
Rising and falling , tide like crest

Certain gravity to the fall, to the fallen
(pun unintended)
Unceasing in releasing;

Dusk, dawn
Fall , rise
Black, white

Just universal polarity like
The one between you and me.

A hand to hold, a smile to crave,
A heart to feel, a love to cherish;

All now lies washed down
Dust in the rain
Solitary drops now remain.

Seashells are pure
They dance across the ocean waves
Waiting for serenity to hit
Though they are already filled
with utter esctasy

I feel as if I am a seashell
Waiting for his wave

We raise boys with
fragile self-esteem
and girls
to coddle their
self-esteem

You see my brown skin
And assume I'm a ****.

You see my hijab
And assume I'm a terrorist.

You see the smile on my face
And assume I'm happy.

You hear my words
And assume I'm okay.

But I am not.

Instead I am broken.
Yet I am also strong.

I am dark and rule-following.
I am peaceful and Muslim.

You assume based on
Society's POV.

If you smile
You must be happy.

Fox, CNN, any media
Tells you I am a terrorist.
So the names I get called
And the extra security checks
Are extremely upsetting.

The murders of black folk
Is either considered appropriate
Or it's "black on black crime"
So it's not taken seriously.

Who are you gonna believe
Me or those who don't know me?