4 PM in Oakland

4PM in Oakland

I'm from a place where I can be killed by somebody who looks as if they could be my brother. I'm suffering from a lingering pain. Every time I close my eyes another body drops. Another young black is shot. Another mother cries. Whether black on black crime or police brutality .... That's another homicide. That's still somebody's baby.... A mother is doubting her faith .... Asking God why he couldn't save him.  She wonder if she can still get on her knees and praise him and thank him for what he has done and what he will do. I watch in awe because I fix my lips to ask for forgiveness & to thank him too. But my doubt is consistent. But I still pick up my bible and fix my lips to pray because I'm fighting for survival. In a city where you can pull up to the light look from left to right. And that's the last time you're seen alive. I swear it's  6 pm in Oakland now... And I haven't found my voice I move my lips there is no noise. I am broken! My heart is shattered! I am more than abused and battered! I am confused I have no clue what to believe. I'm searching for a purpose and someone to believe in me.

This poem is about: 
My community
Our world


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741