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Ciel Sep 5
Black boy stripped of his innocence.
Black boy denied his right to be a kid.
Black boy labeled since birth.
Black boy criminalized.
Black boy stereotyped.
Black boy violated.
Black boy silenced.
Black boy monitored.
Black boy put into a box.
Black boy seen as a menace.
Black boy forced to grow too fast.
Black boy with his back to the world.
Black boy, you are loved
Black boy, you are a prince
Black boy, you are beautiful
Black boy, you are smart and worthy.
Black boy, go on and speak your truth.
Black boy, go on and dance.
Black boy, go on and sing.
Black boy, go on and paint.
Black boy, go on and be a kid.
Haylin May 24
When a white woman is victimized they'll scour the streets, fan out, stop,
harass, detain, arrest any black man. Anyone they can finger for the crime.

They say things such as they all look alike or something to that effect.

A black woman is abused they'll look around, see white males everywhere but they cannot find any suspects? None of them fit the description.

Why is that?

Yeah, that's right, it is because they all look alike! Too many of 'em. Can't arrest everyone now, can we? People have rights!

Yep,
          I suppose they do...



As long as you consider them,
                                                        "­p­eople,"  
                                                    ­  ­                         -they have rights.
Fọlá May 21
Black is beautiful.
Toned, smooth. A miracle.
Black is a treasure.
Golden, by any measure.

Black is an inspiration.
A shining light, a beacon.
Black is awesome.
A touch of magic, and then some.

Black is precious.
A gift from God, unique.
Black is sumptuous,
Enticing. A wonderful treat.

Black is cool.
Hip, Fun.
Black is free.
Hop, Soar to the top.
Adam DeRosa Jan 31
Immunity at the cost
Of false patriotism.
Immunity at the cost of
A heart... a life.

“You’re doing God’s work, Son.”
You hear as you march.
March in to the pit of ****** and blindness.
“He had a gun!” You cry.
“He was only a child.” I reply.

You take validity out of the words of the oppressed.
You take money from the pockets of the poor.
How many memories must you repress
To feel empowered enough,
to drop the innocent to the floor?
tumelo mogomotsi Dec 2018
everything is everything, and
everything is nothing at all.
everybody’s obsessed until
everyone’s obsession finally
falls. blood splattered on the
earth’s surface, not everyone’s
mother will receive that painful
call. a cold body and an empty
stomach, not everyone’s mother
will be weeping whilst they lean
on their kitchen wall. to live as
a burden, and to die just as any
other human, not everybody’s
mother will miss their baby boy.

-t.m
I said, "How long will it take?"
I mean, we've seen the same mistakes.
Ain't it crazy after all this,
we're still waiting for a change.

And the faces are the same,
the pain, it still remains.
Tired of it all but really who is there to blame?
The system, the victims, the money or fame?
The power, the hour, the looks or the name?

But whatever the claim,
we need to make a change.
We are here to stay
so all my people, can I hear you say!

No justice, No peace
No murderous police!
They say liberty for all,
but freedom is not free.
Its time to break down these walls
of animosity.
Its time to fight for our justice and equality.

& we've seen it all before
rooted deep within our history.
Made some improvements
but there is still no victory.

Don't shoot, Hands up
Unite and stand up
Fight back and man up
One more brother down
We need back up!

Its time for a change
Real action, real pain!
We might look different
but were all the same.

Man, this system is so distorted,
to change that, i'm for it.
No freedom till were equal
**** right I support it.
Raylind Nov 2018
Locked in I was
and grey spatter I spit
under fear I crept
for satan's name, used so,
at my dawn and at my wake

my own voice, soft like flowers who tremble
under trees so steadfast

then upon not one, but many
a sunrise, my voice grew up to be wind
      ~my love out-loud in the living room
        prayers and fears to sentence my mouth not one more day

Freedom knew me
my pen knew what it wanted at 11
picking it up at 27
never so brilliantly
has ink bubbled
heart and pen align in love
Sitting here in class I am today, minding my business as they would say. I’m listening to the teacher teach but hearing only things left beyond my reach. Another whole day in this **** school so I can come out each night 'more-of-a-fool,' and would it behoove them all to know, I ain’t no dummy, no 'coffee-Joe'?

  …but then I’d have to get the chance, the opportunity provided to advance and the equal treatment they all receive that somehow has been lost on me. Why do I even come here? Why does my Mom insist on this? They don’t call on me, care about me, acknowledge me, it’s ridiculous. At lunch each day I gotta use my fists and even my own kind acts wicked, cause for the rest of them fighting is all that exists.

  Exists; having objective reality or being.

  I exist alright; exist if you call this a life, defined by ******, **** and monkey, or related to some stupid-actin’ ****** or some dumb brawler or that dude good at running but never ever seen as intelligent and cunning. The girls ignore me, teachers too, white guys hate me, what did I do? What did I ever do to them? I’m just like you, I just want some friends, want the chance in life to succeed, man shut up about being freed that **** happened a hundred and fifty ******* years ago, I’m just as sick of hearing about it as you are 'Bro.'

  They say I have rights, they say that it’s fair, they say there’s a chance for me everywhere, but everywhere I look that’s not what I see, I’m put-down and degraded cons-tant-ly, told that I should join the team, or passed over in conversations about some thing. Forced to be friends with thugs that hate but to them at least I can relate, for just like me they was excluded or marginalized when told that they are deluded; they’ll never make it anyway, never achieve their dreams, never have their say so why even bother when no one cares how you feel, when your dreams in life won’t ever be real, when you end up in the streets and all you got left is to steal, when its still,

“Go back to Africa ******!”

...they say with zeal and the vitriol an violence comport surreal, Helen didn’t hold this secret to reveal nor does rap, truthfully, with these problems deal? Cocooned by stares and ****-sure glares, because your own sports brothers hate your *** and make you just wanna ditch that class, so here I ended up on the streets, hangin' round on my crew’s beats, acting tough, street-cred and clout and there your 'momma-an-sister' out n’ about, while here I am a fresh drop-out and can you guess what?

Here we come to take her purse, I clock your mom’s mouth and shove down your sister but ***** you boy I could’ve done much worse, she could’ve lost her life and come home in a hearse!

  Is this the ****** ya’ll wanted to see? All filled up inside with hatred, cause I was told that I would never make it, from day one got no attention, spent half of high school in afternoon detention, training me for my future as a prison convict yet another sign our society is depraved and sick. Given no chance or help or just some praise, no moments to shine and no Happy Days, he’s just a gang-banger, a **** they say? My actions may be worse than your words assail, and well, that may be me and I may be in jail but here’s something from my Grand Momma, a little encouragement goes a long way to change this drama...

You see me on the street you better ******* run cause you already know what’s in my jacket son and my hoodie will be up so you can’t see my face since I already know what you think of my race.
I guess these are rhyming stories really. I grew up poor in rough neighborhoods and majority-minority schools. This piece is a tribute to tribulations of poor African Americans which I know all too well having grown up in their neighborhoods.
Laura Duran Oct 2018
Lately I've been a little moody
I get triggered by comments made
on a video or a tweet or the supposed
leader of our nation spouting his views
on ****** assault victims....

The real victims....men and boys that
are being accused of a horrible act
Innocent yet treated like they're guilty.
Please, don't get me wrong.
Being falsely accused is terrible.
Any one guilty of it should be held liable.

But, after all of the victims, women and men alike
coming forward to tell their stories, he speaks on
behalf of the accused.....Am I stupid for being angry?
What really disappoints me are the people that get upset
when women react to such insensitive views.
They tweet or comment and I try to have conversations
with these people and end up screaming into a pillow!

I walk away wondering if it's worth my time to make
my point of view understood.  
Will I ever change any ones mind?
It's the black lives matter vs all lives matter struggles
all over again!
The argument of should players stand for the anthem!

Why don't people understand that saying black lives matter
doesn't mean ONLY black lives matter, it's a way of saying
Please remember!!!  Black lives matter TOO!  Stop the hate!!!
People of color are being discriminated against and we are tired.
So finally a man decides to protest by calmly taking  knee during the anthem aaaaannnd......here HE comes to manipulate the meaning of it all and makes it about disrespecting the flag and
our troops.  

And don't even get me started on *** rights!  To be treated like
second class citizens is ludicrous!  How fantastically absurd to
be told by your own government that you cannot marry the
person you love! And because life has to be just a little more
unfair the LGBTQ community are at high risk for ******
assault and hate crimes too!    

I realize none of this is new....I guess the Kavanaugh hearing
triggered me and I can't seem to get it off my mind.  I heard
Dr. Ford's testimony and watched as so many people, including
the man himself, come with more and more ****** excuses
and a half *** investigation and in the end he sits on the supreme court any way.  

I'll do my duty....I'll use my voice and vote, but I live in a red
state and I know it's an up hill battle.  One that may be lost.
But I've said my piece.  If you've read through it all, thank you.
If you agree with me, keep fighting. If you don't, I respect your
opinion, but I'll never understand it.
I needed to vent....I did.  I can't say I feel any better, but maybe tomorrow, I'll wake up to find a few more people have joined the fight.  Here's hoping.
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