Shout From the Mountaintop

And the land of the "almost" free... The shortest month on the calendar is black history. Our kinky, coily hair. The many textures and types. The warm melanin in our skin. The rich heritage, we carry within. All lives lost, for us to be here today. I can’t let their hardwork; blood ,sweat and tears go in vain. The stain on the American flag. How many times have we  heard about the civil war, the Holocaust. But when we test the history books on why the only history we know starts with slavery. We get shut down,blatantly. Oh say can you see. Police Brutality. What so proudly they shoot. The red and blue lights gleaming.. Struggling to keep afloat in this systematic oppression. Pushed out and beat down by laws. It was if the impact had knocked every wisp of air from his lungs. I STILL CAN’T BREATHE. How can someone get shot sixteen times with no consequence? The judicial system should face recompense. It’s a touchy subject that I shouldn’t have to feel.There should be a swifter judicial process of bringing lawless cops who kill. The longer the wait, the more the anger builds. Instead of just talking about it we need to have twenty-four hour surveillance video camera that monitors cops behaviors.  What is the point of cops having body cameras if they can turn it off at any time?


This poem is about: 
My community
Guide that inspired this poem: 



This poem is an original and I am very proud to share it with you. I hope you enjoy


This poem is wonderfully accurate. I love the way you twisted some of the lyrics.

Keep it up! Don't let anyone scare you out of speaking the truth.

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