Isn't it lovely
When pervy men
Pop up in your DM box
And try to make you feel
That you are a failure

Hmm
Someone's pen
Is thicker than his ****

We're all the same
We all feel pain
Only difference is
We have different addictions
Different prescriptions
Different decisions
And different drives that drive us to the lives that we lead
The dreams we seek
Some fall behind
Some succeed

Eat not my Brother
For though his skin is darker than mine
His tears are no less salty
Nor is his laughter less sweet

Eat not my brother
Treat him not unlike a man
For though we are not alike on the outside
Humanity is not only skin deep

I won't have kids
I'm very serious
Not until i can say to them
"I lived through a time when it was unhealthy to have your curly hair and brown skin,
When you could be killed over an assumption. Yes I know even if you had nothing to do with it.
I lived through a time when it didn't mean much to us to serve and protect.
But your generation can do better than us,
We caught and exposed via our phones and social media the power lustful and corrupt

But we only received this torch from those that walked up and down on this path before us.
I want you to do better and be better than us my child, so go out into the world and be proud of your heritage and who you are
Remember the struggles we went through, so they never happen again. "

The blood always runs red
Skin color makes no difference;
Why do you feel no regret
When your bullet sets the sentence?

I can't feel their grief,
I can't taste the fear,
But watching this repeat-
No ******* relief-
I can hear this endless ringing
Deep in my ears.

How can you not?
At least 136 souls dispersed
Among the dark beyond;
Their light turned off
Forever.

But even after, you turn both eyes blind
Unless you're looking for reasons
For how it was their fault they died.
Now is the season for revolution-
Not homicide.

Does my blackness offend you?
Is my hair too curly for you?
Are my hips too wide for you?

My dark brown skin glows with all the melanin I have been gifted with.
My lucious thick hair is filled with curls that bounce with every stride I take forward, away from oppression.
My hips sway perfectly with the drums beating in the air of the Mother land.

Does my athletism bother you?
Is my intelligence too much for you?
Are my people beneath you?

My athletic feats have been studied by generations of white Americans who have hoped to find an extra ligament in my leg.
My intelligence has been the reason for many inventions all over the world.

My people will rise above , always have , always will.

My people will be given justice where it's due.

My people will be heard , just like the drums from the Mother land.

ring ring ring* this is a call letting you know that your life is about to be a nightmare. A call telling you are the reason for all the troubles. A call letting you know, how much of a failure you are. A call confirming all your doubts. A call saying that I am the reason. The reason why everything *****. After you let them talk. The caller hangs up and you start to wonder is it truly me . Was I the cause , should i have been born. Then you replay the happiest moments. You start to say " I am not the problem" . You hope that you won't cry yourself to sleep tonight. You hope that tomorrow is a new day. You try to ignore the fact that you get that call. In reality that call has been added to the pile of disgrace. In the end you will label your self as disgrace, but that's ok cause it's only temporaryYou will soon find a new label and the old label will soon fade the day will come when I look back and see all the pain that people have cause me and I will simply yell "*******. And leave