A man driving down the road
Listening to the radio
Chilling with his girls; his daughter and wife.
His daughter sat in the back;
swaying her warm black curly hair to the music
His wife bopped her head rhythmically;
Laughing their silly daughter
This was his dream when he was a little boy.
The same dream we all have when we were younger
The dream of having the perfect wife, kid, house, and car.
Isn’t that why we played house when we were young?
To live this dream we couldn’t yet live
He believes that playing house with his neighbors, Aliyah and Denise prepared him for the family life and,
Frankly made him a better father.
All of a sudden, everything stops
The hum of the music from the radio quiets to a whistle
The laughter of his two beautiful ladies silences
His heartbeat seems to freeze in time and speeds up again
When he sees a flash of lights behind him
Causing him to widen his eyes
The sound of the siren rings in his ears and
Slithers throughout his body
His breathing quickens for a brief moment
His daughter, turns toward him with tears in her eyes.
It seemed like a good idea at the time to show her the news
To bring her to light of the world she is living in
He realized doing so made her less ignorant but
Made her more susceptible to the emotions of misery
And the causes the hope in her tiny, little, childlike brain to disintegrate
Her hope will instead be replaced with fear and paranoia.
It was probably better to keep her out of the loop as
Ignorance is Bliss
Or is it?
He stared at her eyes and took a deep breath.
Putting on his turning signal, he slightly turned the wheel to his right.
At least, if he does this, it will be one less thing to be in trouble for.
He’s on the side of the road now.
The side where a bunch of broken, brown bodies laid breathless.
He rolled down the window.
The handcuffs on the officer's belt clanked on his belt as he walked closer to the vehicle
The officer stopped in front of the window.
The officer’s fair skin seem to have shone in the orange streetlight.
The officer crossed his arms across his chest.
“Do you know how fast you were going?”
The driver gulped, and cautiously spoke
“Yes, sir. I was following the speed limit; 65 miles per hour.”
He made sure the officer could see his hands
“Are you sure ‘bout that?” the officer asked.
The driver nodded. Suddenly, the officer’s arms dropped to his sides.
The driver forgot the unwritten constitution of traffic stops.
Talk slowly and calmly
Make eye contact
Make sure all hand motions are noticeable
NO SUDDEN MOVEMENTS.
He finds it funny that there is such a constitution. He chuckled under his breath.
“Is there something funny?” the officer asked.
“”OK. License and registration” the officer commanded.
He digged through his jacket for his wallet
He couldn’t find it in the sea of receipts and loose change.
He looked in his other jacket pocket and felt something lumpy.
He took it out quite cautiously; his hands shaking from nervously.
He looked down at the brown leather wallet; caked in rips and tears.
He called them scars as each rip told a story. For instance,
The huge tear at the top left corner was when his
Daughter tried to tear the leather off to make a purse for her barbie dolls.
Of course, he was mad at her but then she showed him puppy dog eyes and he forgave her
This was the day he knew this little girl was talented and was going to make it
The anticipation of seeing his little princess grow up to be a beautiful queen of some handsome prince made his eyes water
He looked up the officer.
The officer;s right hand was on his hip, right near his gun.
The driver opened his wallet and quickly took out the license and registration.
He handed it to the officer
The officer yanked it out of his hands
The officer’s eyes scanned through the license.
“Get out of the car”
The driver was shook by the aggressive nature of the cop’s voice
He slowly reached for the handle and opened the door.
He stood up and walked to the trunk of the car.
The cop followed suit.
“Open the trunk” the cop demanded.
It seems as though the cop is giving a lot of orders.
Seems like he is power hungry
Like he still sees the driver’s slavery scars.
“May I ask why officer?” the driver asked.
The cop inched up to his face and said,
“Because I said so,”
Suddenly, the cop’s partner came out of the squad car. He looked to be about 26 years old,
“Is there a problem here?”
“I got it,” the og cop reassured.
The driver stood there with the two cops standing over him.
He took out his spare key.
His hands shaking, he opened the trunk
The trunk contained two suitcases and one pink Doc mcstuffins book bag
As they had just came from a two-day church banquet
The original cop searched the two black suitcases.
The young cop observed him.
He then searched his daughter’s bookbag
He looked into the car to see his daughter watching him.
“Umm...sorry officer but can you be careful with that? It’s my daughter’s.” He politely requested.
The cop looked up at the daughter and sucked his teeth
He slowly opened the book bag as a way of challenging the driver’s request
He looked through it and found his baby girl’s locket
He held it up and dropped it on the ground.
He felt the anger start to bubble up like oatmeal in a pot.
The driver saw the partner gripping his gun and pointing it at the back of his head
The driver’s muscles stiffened and he froze in place.
The original cop smirked as he lifted up his leg
A chill ran up and down the driver’s spine as sweat bullets started to pour down his face
The original cop stomped down on the locket and the driver
Lifted his arm to try and save it
However, 5 loud gunshots rang out of the partner’s gun
The driver dropped to the ground and his wife ran outside the car.
She saw the body and the blood flowing from the back of his head
She wailed out a huge cry
Her daughter was behind her, peeking from the side of her mother’s body.
For the driver, all he felt was warmth on this cold day as his blood ran rapid;
Sweeping away the leftovers of the locket
With the pieces a crumpled picture of his father who died from a fatal gunshot to the head
His father was a war hero.
This man was not in a war or
At least not one he purposely drafted in
He was killed in a war that all black people;
Specifically black men, are drafted in once they are born.
Feasibly, you can say he, too was a war hero as he
Credited the black race and the movement towards equality in the justice system.
However, this war hero shouldn’t and wouldn’t have died if we were united
If we stuck together like brick, perhaps we could’ve made a brick wall
Which would’ve made it harder to watch us fall.