Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jul 2016
I pray the lord my soul to keep if I were to end up under a white sheet, hoping I don't get shot, pull out the glock, killing my people off because our melanin pops. Brothers and sisters banding together seems to shake you to your very core; terrified that we could be so much more; positive role models, with our beautiful excess pigmentation. We don't fit into your back drop; your white frame, we thought we had changed the game, escaped the chains but everything remains the same. Now we remain target practice for your racist game, you are drunk with power now, believing you are in control, ignorance is bless; but our indignation is the fist that will knock you out of your ignorant bless. I'm not saying they're all bad but the violence has to stop. #blacklivesmatter
Written by
Harley Quinzel  London
(London)   
774
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems