By Arcassin Burnham


All I want is for a Chance to get a life and better myself without
Misguidance,
All I want is my own room and my own bed to sleep in because it's what
I never had and,
All I want is to spend the holidays the right way and want everybody
To get in the spirit,
But Right Now , All I want is to get away from here,
Please Lord can you grant my wish cause I don't wanna live
In fear,
Tell me do I really ask for much..
Didn't occurred to me that I mattered that much..
Maybe because I use to care so much...

/

I would say I'd surrender but I've fallen out,
you and me have to agree that everyone has
a choice to deal without,
different degrees of light don't really make a
difference,
you and I could be more than just distance

And when the lights go down and moods set
Mellow
And your eyes are filled with water,
And your face turns purple,
With the pale moon light,
And the devils screaming hello,
From afar,
Just mocking who you are.

That word. Enough.
It rings with impatience.
Enough. What is Enough.

For me. Enough. Is too much.
Enough. Is a spectrum. Of opposing sides.
On one end. Those who have had Enough.
On the other. Those who haven't had Enough.
On one end. Those who die because of Enough.
On the other. Those who live because of Enough.

People claim that All Lives Matter.
But they haven't mattered Enough.
Black Lives Matter. But they haven't Enough.
On that spectrum of skin from Black to White.
This country's decided where Enough is.
Right on the line where you matter
Just not Enough for change.
Not Enough
Not Enough
Not Enough

So when. Is Enough. When is that.
When will Enough. Actually be Enough.

These people surely have had Enough.
But clearly not Enough for you.

You have your hair
to represent your pain;
to show off and hide at the same time,
which you can dye in every color
and grow as long as you like
or cut it short and paint it black
when it gets too much.

You have ears to keep secrets
and a mouth to share truth.

You have memories for feet
to keep you on the ground
and dreams for eyes
to see clearly and openly.

You have your mistakes as your backbone
to support and keep you in line
and twelve pairs of ribs
that form a cage for all the fears
you want to keep inside.

You have hands made of solid passion
with creativity on your fingers
and care in your palms.

You have lungs that respire freedom
and vocal cords that make music.

You've the Earth as your mind
which may not have all the answers
but breeds life anyway,
and a heart that pumps love into it
to make all the difference in the world.

You have bones made of calcified purpose
to let you stand strong
for everything you believe in.

You have the universe in your blood
and it goes way back
to the dawn of time,
seeping through your flesh,
connecting all the people
you have been and yet to be

You have humanity in your soul
and divinity in your body.
Everything is in you
but the best thing about you is
you.

You know what bothers me a bit?
Everytime I recall a memory,
Casually, in my train of thought,
It almost always ends with-
“That was a hard time in my life.”
Even in recollections full of kind
That’s almost always
The following thought in my mind.
And ****** if I can find a period of time
That hasn’t been, that wasn’t.
But it doesn’t matter what was…
Or does it?
Yes… yes, it does.

Brother, the stilts you stand on scare me.
Towering high to rip down our sun
And leave us all in darkness.
You shout down at me fast, and passionately.
You feel this in your heart, but my God
Can I feel the beat through my entire body.
It should be shaking the melanin right off
Of your middle class skeleton, strong
With the calcium of tall men's lies.
Take those stilts off, and walk a mile
With us, fighting our bodies to fetch
Our water, brown and thick with their ****.
I am appalled. Life is dangerous enough,
Without people like you, blending into the night,
With only your wickedly naive eyes giving you away.

police
brutality
breeds
mob
mentality.

how
do
we
fix
the
world
before
the
next
fatality?