We must wake up for the world to sleep,
They ask why we "disturb the peace",
We ask why they place the chains on our feet,
Can they not listen to the screams?
Do they not believe in the dream?
They only want to watch when we make a scene,
Only when it's on camera do they feign sympathy,
They still ask why I refuse to say the pledge,
When my people continue to be shot dead,
beat to our knees, treated like thieves,
When the only thing stolen is our identities,
"Racism is dead, isn't it?"
What kind of question is this?
Like the oppression has not become systematic,
Like the hatred has not been engrained in Americans,
Racism never died, it will always be involved,
The person of color sees no place to stand tall,
Without being told that their lives are small,
The structures must fall,
Though the pain will never be resolved,
Our world may begin to calm,
Once the seas end their storm,
Then we can mourn.
This is why I write,
To fight for life,
When the light doesn't shine,
When my people still cry,
When my people still die.
It's 2016 and we're still chasing the Dream,
It's the 21st century and we're still forced to bleed.
This is life in America, from the eyes of a black teen.