My voice.
Their target.
Yet they forget the rain on our face a
clear trace of gashes in our hearts.
After years in the battle for unity.
Why?

Dear sacred trinity,
hear our painful chant.
Grant us the will,
to feed us with the spiritual skill,
of symmetrical strength.
Amen.

For the lengths of time we
had to climb the racist rubbles.
Our bubbles of brothers and sisters are
popped by the thunders and twisters,
of a killer ****.

And yet,
the 2020 air,
fails to purify a
supremacists disgust.
Of my melanin.

That will never rust.
At their demand.

Do you know why?

Because we are polished with the oils of
justice and the paint of peace.
The crease of our angular frown,
will birth a crown of power,
that will shower the genes of generations to come.

Our paralysed pain,
will be forever buried into the gnashes of
the earth’s core.


Hands embraced.
Eyes aglow with grace.
For together in tongues we say,

We are black.
Amen.

Justine louisy

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