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The truth is we’re scared of which one of us is next ,

  We don’t want to admit it ,

While there’s a hesitant gun aimed at our chests ,


Why at such a young age should we have to fear death ,

were all the same but why do we have to be the ones living in pain,

why do we have to be restrained in invisible shackles that remind us that we’re far from the same,


Far far away is a false reality that things will change ,

but even now we’re still at a high murder rate,

at this rate you would think something would change,


Every action we take has a reaction,

you should be glad to have a gun for the protection of one another not to kill someone ,


It seems like you only see aggravation,

but this aggravation has become physical no longer mental ,

And our mental state has sky rocked into something that has become more physical,

and we want to get revenge on the ones who caused these issues ,


Issues that are looping on replay , over and over again , when will we see the end , the end of our negative mentality,

and the end of police brutality.

Poetry Slam: 
This poem is about: 
My community
My country


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