Poetry “28 Days”

poetry

28 Days

The season of fists on store walls, BHM merchandise littering malls, #BLM tweets, protests in the streets, chanting beats Speaking preaching seeking teaching Reaching! March 1. Tees folded away, protesters go their ways, speeches saved for another day. Because February will come next year right? But still, guns are fired, new blooming dreams — crushed. Can you hear the gavel? It’s a new trial. As we’re slowly left in the dust. More than 28 days, more than a hashtag, more than a marketing tactic, I am Black. In me are the fighters, braving gunshots, getting caught, nooses with knots, to start something brighter, kinder. And what has this brought? After all the suffering fleeing killing bombing beating; History is still repeating. Another child is facing an empty plate, a bullet wound, a missing classmate, a nearing platoon. Daily lives of those in the Tigray genocide. So this fear, this pain gone on and on and on. Can it fit into 28 days? Their losses must be recognized every every every every hour day month year. Because 28 days isn’t enough time for the stories you have yet to hear.

— LAEL G. ’25

This poem appeared in a special collaboration this past February between the student literary journal Imago and the Black Student Union in honor of Black History Month.

14050 1st Avenue NE Seattle, WA 98125-3099 lakesideschool.org