For a Brown Boy in Ferguson (Ain't No Place for Them Here)

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I sit here

And my heart beat speeds

Angry at myself because I should be saying something

I should be doing something

But I don’t know if I’ve developed a stone wall of immunity to injustice

Or if I’m still in shock

Lifeless bodies are continually strewn across screens small and large

And some of us have forgotten to even quiver our top lip

Gasp

Or cry

They’ve made us into robots

Today in the news another brown boy gone

As if we haven’t lost enough already

And we sit

And we watch

And we fight

And we cry

And we fight

And we watch

And we sit

And we die

And we’re angry

Because we’re tired of dying

Fed up with being fed up with being told that we won’t ever be no more

Only less

Our brown boys’ bodies rendered invaluable because no matter how much we teach them to be young, black and gifted

They get reminded by bullets intended to pierce their dreams

that they are not supposed to be here

That as long as they stay in their place

Things will be just fine

But ain’t nobody made a place for them here

Nobody told them that they were welcomed

The only conversations they’ve had are with God right before they took their last breaths,

begging that if it ain’t no place for them here

then certainly it’s a special spot reserved for them in heaven

 

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