Let fall pillars of terror's reign
Let fall statues of fool's gold
Too long hath sheep swallowed pain
Too long hath vultures flown bold

Her pale skin knew all the secrets.
When the maze would twist,
and when it would turn,
when it etched a clear path,
and whispered the escape route.

His dark skin was trapped.
The maze unleashed its branches,
tightening the grip around his body,
tangling him up in the mess
that she had created.

It was designed
by her ancestors,
for only one to win.
This maze
is the one they call life.

She needed to forge a new path.
One where he leads, she follows.
One where the branches
only burden the deserved,
and not for the colour of their skin.

If you did, then you would
but you don’t, so you won’t,

to pretend otherwise
makes an *** out of you
and a corpse out of me

Millionaires down on our luck
that’s the story, isn’t it?

With one lucky chance or a gold watch
found in a yard sale
to propel us to the heights
of hob-nobbery,
this time next year, yeah?

Another item on the unwritten list
known by those that were born to know
is that luck is a commodity
like any other
bought and sold by ‘families’
who hoard it,
a surfeit
beyond any lifetime’s need,
releasing just enough
so we all see it
and believe it to be in reach

Unless the stars aligned
when you were born
chances are you won't be on
the List
and you can make a good fist of work
and burn your very soul
in an effort to reach that goal

yet when you burst your heart for the win
the posts have shifted
and you’ll lie spent
looking at expensive leather shoes
or highly polished boots
as they step over you

Work and noise are not enough
when the system itself serves
the few

work and noise are not enough
for things to get better
for all
and unshackle luck

no justice, no peace

It took years
It took years for me to love the color of my skin
To love the hair that grows out of my head
It took years to stop wanting to bleach my skin
To stop wanting to straighten my hair
It took years
To stop wanting to be anything but black
To stop wishing that I was never born.
But somehow, I still achieved it.  
Even in the face of people that are hell-bent on hating us every single day.

I should be doing homework but I can’t focus
It seems like all this work will be for nothing anyway
Like our deathbed is only a day away
I should be studying for finals but I can’t absorb any information
Instead, I am sitting by the door waiting for my dad to come downstairs
Just so I can tell him goodbye and pray that he comes home

I should be planning my future
But instead, I can only focus on the next few hours
Waiting and waiting and waiting
For my dad AND mom to walk through that **** front door.  

Hoping that my brother got home safe as well.  

All because of the color of my skin.

Run away from hatred
Before it comes to feast on your heart

Burn your ego
Before it slowly burns you.

Run away from your yourself
Run away until you see only love
Love and hope for all
Love and respect for all.

The melanin in our skin,
leaves open a gateway for hate.
It is where violence and bigotry breed
at the hands of those meant to protect.
Was our skin color God’s mistake?

What is fed to us as seeds,
grows into fires filled with rage as we mature.
The cycle is inevitable, at best,  
foreshadowing the entirety of our lives.
Placing those sprouted through hate into an inescapable prison,
filled with fires which cannot be extinguished.
Warranting these fires to burn within us, was God’s only mistake.
We will not be put out.
I.M