Most of my poems are cries

Cries for freedom from pain

Releasers of my feelings

On a page there’s a world where I can speak

There is no ceiling

After each tear there is a word for me to write

However I do want there to be at least one poem

For me, from me

One where I feel my heart beating, working to keep having me breathing

One where I just share my thoughts, a philosophical feeling

Dealing these feelings of living and fearing

There’s so much pain I feel

So many thoughts coursing through my brain

In my mind I cry

My heart bleeds tears of pain and heartache

Because I know my peoples pain

And it feels like I am helpless to it all

When they cry I feel tears streaming through my face

Interconnected by blood and race

Interconnected by fear and hate

Interconnected by dirt and the toils of our pain

We are children, parents, mothers, people

We are human, with stories to tell and scars to show

We mean no harm I tell you

Do you hear my cries at night?

As I call for my peoples lost mothers and fathers

As I cry for my peoples lost children and in it

. . . I hear nothing . . . 

For they have left the face of this world

Seen as scum, not humans

When all we did was ask for a better world.

Do you not see or do you refuse to see?

Did you not know or do you refuse to know?

I’m told they teach Ethics and Morals in school

If America is the top of the top

Should you not know, we are only human?

I am not below you