Yet We Grow Stronger Still

I am a black man.

A descendant of kings and queens with the blood of a warrior running through my veins,

And a survivor's spirit to fight through these chains of oppresion

that sought to break my ancestor's chances of succession.

Born and raised away from home,

in these lands that claim that my people are free,

but we are abused, accused, and subdued by those to sworn to protect us & our families.

I rob a convenience store, get shot once, twice.

I watch from above as my family's eyes flow with tears and all I can do is watch this traumatic sight.

Yet, rapists with father's bottomless pockets go free.

Denying the victim's families a restless night,

breaking our so called Bill of Rights.

This is my world, the world of my kin.

A life that should've never been. 

If we had not been dragged from our homes,

shipped to the unknown,

years later walking bent over with broken bones.

Present day much has changed, but much has still stayed the same.

I still fear the high paid with the addition of the color blue. 

I know it's meant to inspire hope, truth,

but all I see is violence, and the lesser version of a noose.

I am afraid to walk down my streets,

terrified to get out from underneath my bed sheets.

I am forced to choose between a hoodie, or a t-shirt pushed to decide if today is the day that I die.

The last day I see the moon rise, the sun set.

It could be the last time I run wild and free, enjoying life until I sink into the unavoidable death.

Yes I am petrified.

Back in the day, they used to say with each whip lash across my back I became purified.

That with each scar made, I was saved.

These are the beliefs of the deranged.

They tried to silence us, break us, our will.

Yet here we are, present.

And everyday we grow stronger still.

 

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