Is the color of my skin a crime?
As if I am not alive,
Dear God, all I am trying to do is survive
Because you never know when it’s time to say goodbye.
My people have felt deprived
It’s time to testify,
We’re done being crucified
Let me open your eyes.
A history of chains and ships,
Suffering in pain
Our limbless bodies slayed.
They hid our history
Lied about our ethnicity,
Nothing but human cargo put to sale on a floor show
Being told it’s in the past, let it go.
I scream at the top of my lungs,
Maybe one day, they’ll stop killing our sons.
Look outside there is nowhere to run, as he holds the handgun.
Pain that will never be un-done
We’re just trying to overcome,
Like being black is a crime
I knew the color of my skin was dangerous by the age of nine,
Because of my ancestors who had to sit behind
Years later, still waiting for peace of mind.