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IAM POETRY SPRING 2021
Black Love Ballad When I was in the second grade, I got an award for being a good storyteller I guess I understood at that age how to tell a tale worth listening to Captivating others by the rawness of its truth I used to think that I was free to write my own story Without having to worry about it ending prematurely But then I saw it on the news A little girl who looked like me without her father The soul-crushing cries of a mother like mine Begging to hold her child one last time, her son Prejudged, his fate predetermined by a flawed system Because his skin was seen as a threat March 13, 2020. 26-year old Breonna Taylor was shot 6 times and killed by police in her home in Louisville. April 7, 2020. 26-year old D’andre Campbell was shot and killed by police in his family home in Brampton. May 25, 2020. 46-year old George Floyd was choked to death for 9 minutes and 29 seconds by police in the street In Minneapolis. April 13, 2021. 16 year-old Ma’Khia Bryant was shot and killed by police in Ohio. The list goes on and on and on. All were unarmed. All their deaths were undeserved but seemingly reserved I keep seeing it in the headlines. Again, and again, and again Constantly bombarded with the possibility That my life could end just as quickly With the false promises that those in authority will address the root of the problem and make changes to solve it; The inequality bestowed by the hue of my skin that forces me to work twice as hard only to get half as far I don’t understand why my skin is seen as a threat I don’t understand why my skin is seen as a threat I don’t understand why it alone warrants a death sentence The claim that “it was just an accident” But what I do understand is the worry etched daily on my mother’s face Scared I’m unprepared for the world, that it won’t let me make it back home Because of the cruelty of the police The vulnerable and visible “minority” left in their hands At the “mercy” of merciless beasts The thin blue line is what officers walk daily between life and death A sign of solidarity with those they swore to protect But it’s hard to have the back of an institution that wears it badge Loud and proud and still does not see someone like me as a person That wretched badge used as an excuse for the abuse of their power When that line is stained with crimson red
