Echoes of Exhaustion

I’m tired of more than just the everyday issues.

I’m tired of living a life covered in infamously unappreciated Black skin that so many people covet because it’s cool.

I’m tired from being a fatherless son, even though my Dad lived down the street.

I’m tired of being tasked with explaining to my white friends of why it’s not cool to say the N word.

I’m tired of being some walking caricature that amuses the white businessmen at my job.

I’m tired of not being trusted to walk in fancy stores without being followed around because my hands are greedy enough to grab anything without my mind being able to realize that it’s wrong.

I’m tired of being the only person that looks like me in my classrooms.

I’m tired of walking around with persecution resting on my chest, convicted by the stares of well-armed police officers.

I’m tired of being guilty without being proven guilty, even though I have been robbed of my innocence since before I was born.


This poem is about: 
My family
My community
My country
Our world


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