I am somebody Shot in the Head... Found the bullets. Coroner Said. A child of God struck dead. Gang related disputing Fools. Aiming cowardly bullets right at you. I guess praying prayers just won't do. There is no safe in these hard knocks realities' Truths. Our Sista child! Our mother child! All the while the bodies pile. Her body now adds to that 'the shootings aren't as bad as last year' body count. Can't even stand anywhere in your city NOW? Something has to truly give. There's a plague of rigid legalities, relaxed moralities, and political realities stealing the 'safe' from our dying breed. The Black man withering away in siphoning inequalities. Doubling unemployment stretches outward like a statistical wild fire.... Our present fact. There is a genocidal component to these criminal acts.
Published in the 2018 Edition of the Reconstructed Literary and Visual Journal at Governors State University.
This poem addresses how gun violence steals away the hope and dreams from the African American Community.