Sun, 10/29/2017 - 14:14 -- J2Phi

Brown skin, white palms, my hair is dark and always nappy

I struggle to thrive in a world designed to keep me unhappy

I go to school the teachers think that I'm breaking rules

I walk home as a hoodlum, nigger, thief, and coon

I drive my car and get pulled over because it's stolen

They'd rather send me to jail than see my pocket swollen

Every time before I leave the house, I pray

Hoping God covers me so I can see another day

I don't wanna trend on Twitter with my city and my name

Or be on CNN for a week until my memory's faded away

Just to make room for another victim the media reveals

My mama apologizing for bringing us into the world and making us deal

With all the prejudice and hate

We always come home at 8 

Cuz if we don't she'll stay awake real late

Because she's waiting on the call that ends it all

"They were black and they were tall

They looked suspicious and were holding something small

So small we couldn't tell what it was

It's either candy or drugs

So we decided on the latter

And pulled up on your sons

They didn't try to run

They were even so bold as to do what they were told

No repetition took hold

So we searched your kids down

The one with the locs

We felt a bump 

'he's got a gun!'

A round a piece

We both shot

Your other son got ballistic

I swear he grew a couple feet

It was too much for two cops to handle a 13 year old beast

I swear he tried to run from us

What were we to do?

A couple bullets in his back

Your other son is dead too"


This poem is about: 
My family
My country


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