A 12-year old boy walks in
The dry Cleveland air never disappoints
It was his first day at school
"How was your day Tamir?"
Spouts his mother from the kitchen
As she prepares the evening dinner

School was ok I guess
I could do better in my classes but whatever
Basketball practice was fun

A 12-year old boy walks in
Today is especially cold even for Cleveland
The snow stuck like it was there to stay
"How was your day Tamir"
His mother asks from the living room

School was ok
Can I can go to the park tomorrow?
I want to have a snowball fight with my friends

A 12-year old boy walks in
Dry cold air is the perfect weather for bleeding
He walks in and tries to cover the holes in his chest
"How was your day Tamir?"
His mother asks
Just like any other day

Mommy I went to the park today
But my friends never showed up
So I made snowballs on my own
And I played with my airsoft gun
Mommy all of a sudden the park was empty
A car zoomed right in front of me
It was only a few steps
The police car door opened
And they shot me Mommy
I was reaching to give them my airsoft gun
Mommy I'm dead now
The holes in my chest they won't close up
Nobody saved me Mommy
I'm so sorry I made a big mistake
I didn't mean to scare people with my airsoft gun
I won't make the same mistake next time
I promise!
Mommy please forgive me
I promise next time I will have more control
Mommy give me another chance
Mommy please cover my red holes

I am the shadow of trayvon martin
Lying on the ground just as he did
I'm black just as he was
I wasn't planning to die that day either
I wasn't threatning nobody either
that day
The gunshots echoed
just as loud
when I was shot down as Mike Brown
yet his name echoes through the streets years later still
mine followed me to the grave
They don't care about me it seems
If I cried "what about me"
Who would ever see?
because my hashtag has even been drowned so deep in the depths of R.I.P's that I can't barely breathe anymore
When we think black brutality
Why do the names of trayvon
Mike
Tamir
Sandra
Rush to our heads just as fast as blood once rushed to theirs?
Does my black life, too, matter?
I can't blame you
That there have been so many deaths due to oppression and police brutality that they all seem to sound the same
No matter how loud we scream Black lives matter
We will never be seen as the living
But the potentially dead
We cry for justice to a system that's no longer built to accept us
A president that tries to forget us
A black voice will always be too loud to a world who never intended on listening
Who am I?
Besides a hashtag and a t-shirt with my face on it?
A black lives matter sign and a melanin fist?
A statistic?
I am black excellence
Regardless of how much sin you may see in my kin