Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Megan Jones Apr 2019
December 18th, 2018
I've been running down this
Snow-covered road
For fourteen miles
With arrowheads
Pierced through
The bridges of my feet

Extremities turning blue, then black
You can't turn back now, face it-
"Twelve inches overnight", they said
We reap what we sow, echoing...

A whisper ran beside me
Running off the road - into the woods
I followed-
Until we reached the lake

Frozen almost to the center
I laid down, began making snow angels
Looking up at old light and dancing trees
I hope the ice cracks reach me-
Before they do
Two book bags just got shot down,
while celebrating the end of the school year on the play ground.
Destroying our souls.
Again and again!
in Chi-town.
Ain’t nothing sacred anymore.
Marching from here to there.
Saying “Stop The Violence”
is met by a corrupt system;
that just don’t CARE.
We The People must learn to CARE once again.
About our community....
Our brothers and sisters in their beautiful black skin.
Those two book bags represent someone’s
little girls bleeding out on the cement shores.
Never to explore education's reach, marriage, or raising children in peace.
“Stop The Violence” isn’t just a tagline.
Its a call for justice,
while sustaining the Black man's bloodline.
Our children deserve to be safe,
while being Proud and Black in any living space....
at any given time.
Why does my Black skin come with a 'they died too soon' deadline?


(C) Copyrighted
On the South side  of Chicago; two  young girls were shot on the last day of class, while they were playing on the school playground.
Hayley Rena Apr 2019
Mourning on school mornings
as you take your children to the bus stop
hope their hearts won’t stop
bullet shells drop

and moments of silence
will never balance their cries
or your rage
or put others at ease

it will never
combat the kids in the halls
saying “we don’t care”
with a rib cage full of hate

it will never
get those of ignorance to think

the people cant listen to moments of silence
so be louder than the gunshots
because I’m tired of listening to those.
Written// 2018
Next page