I fear that lead incision shattering my skull.
That same poison tradition carried out for centuries before
leaving the disenfranchised with broken homes
and broken graves
to match these broken days.

Executions flash across my screen
day by day
like a sleeping spell
trying to numb my mind to the violence
of trying to live a life.

There is no reason.
There is only bloodshed.
How many are you willing to ****
to protect your pride?

Children's screams land into deaf ears
willing to mock their ghosts with lies.
You still believe the fallacy of the
Freedom of Life
when you're not the one
standing in front of the machine's eyes.

You care more for the machine
than human lives.
One that brings an apocalypse to our kind.

Yet, you never hold the blame.
You blame your victims
for what's happened in their lives
or the state or their minds.

Never that the gunman holds cruel intentions.
Your minds are too fragile to believe
what is truth.

Still bodies lie
With what used to be filled with so much light that
stare in your direction.

And never forget
what role you played
or else they could be
Still alive.

How am I supposed to explain...the pain
to someone that wouldn't lend an ear...to hear
my fear about towards people in blue....who to you
seem like heroes, people who do.....only what they have to
You admit that some are corrupt, some aren't right
but black people need to coop, you think we always fight
against people that carry guns? have all the might?
historically oppressing people of color, have been the plight
I have done nothing wrong, but still my hands I raise
heart beating out of my chest, eyes are glazed
I feel them filling up, and I'm amazed, that I feel total fear
I feel depraved, but I have done nothing wrong,
is being black, just enough to play the song, to take us back
to Jim crow and his friend, ancestors in a shack,
shackled up by their hands, feet and on their back
is the American dream, American promise,
It said I promise you can be free, I promise
but here I am 200 years later,
flashing red and blue lights behind me, light a light saber
I smile, I'm courteous, I'm kind, put on my best behavior
hoping I'm not sent to meet my maker
because I've done nothing wrong

Singly among the sand castles
No one noticed until he was there
Above him or in his path

We had built him like children
Build sand castles
We carved and patted him from moist earth
He was soft, yet rigid as he lay there
His gaze was skyward and uncertain..

We left him there to see what people do
And walked a distance to the dunes
We watched him among people
For he was one now.

They came. Families, elderly couples
And children too and stopped
To admire and express delight
At this sand man's sculptured form.

We felt happiness at the pleasure be brought
He made them stop a moment to feel their surroundings
And recognize his contented solitude.

Teenage boys came to jeer and leer.
One of them looked around as if in secrecy
And plunged a driftwood stick at the sandman's groin
Then quickly ran away laughing at his tale.

The stick protruded  boldly
Our sand man's hands were at his sides
He felt no ruler of the sands
Only a gentle soul made of mockery.

A girl and her brother approached
After we had removed the offence.
The young boy was waving his 'mighty sword'
(Some stick which had washed ashore)

At first, with his sister in charge
They stopped to admire
But then she walked away,
Turned her back to venture on.

"Hello", he said to the sandman
As if to acknowledge someone there.
Then with his 'mighty sword' he pierced
Into the sandman's groin and
Ripped up to his chest
Then swung his 'sword' and
Cut the sand man's throat...

Why? Why! we cried in mind
As the young boy ran away
Murderer! we yelled in our hearts

IWe hurt for man
We sat stunned at this violence
This desecration of a soul.

We couldn't just leave him there
Blameless, yet aware
So we buried the sand man and prayed
Dust to dust, sand to sand

Sand he may have been
But soul he was for us.

He will suckle
and spit
drinking blood
from your ****.

He will spread your legs
and leave
an unprotected present
deposited
past your ****
once he climaxes.

He will claim your womanhood
and demand that you submit
to his weakness,
calling his faults
dominance and confidence.

He will prey upon
ancient insecurities,
that subconscious programming
because you do not know
your own binary coding.

He will trick you into
drinking your resistance away,
plant his pin *****
in your fertile crescent,
and if you try to erase
that lifelong mistake
he will claim
that you are a sinner.

Subdued you will
sublimate your will
and fulfill
fifties sitcoms
housewife fantasies
for a family,
sacrificing all your dream
for the man who schemes
to enslave you.