The United States of America;
Land of the free and the home of the brave.
The land where free black men are digging
You can’t sell cigarettes outside of a store.
You can’t ask for help and follow all orders.
We say black lives matter and our voices
What year are we in? Do you need a reminder?
Sit down; be quiet like a good little Negro.
Cover your eyes; don’t question it. Just let it
No one ever said black lives matter more.
But right now the cops are beating on our doors.
Our men are being murdered; our boys
are being chased.
All this for nothing more than the color
of their face.
Praying, pleading, begging for our lives.
We are only dangerous criminals in their eyes.
They pull up past records to justify his murder
As if to say death was the consequence of
Convictions already served.
It’s almost as if being black
Put a pulsing red target upon our backs.
These murderers are given paid
For stealing lives from families like
People are mad because our protests turn violent
But neglect to accept that we used to be silent.
They pushed and pushed to see if we would fall
And now our passion for justice begets flames
10 feet tall.
This year more than ever,
I have mourned for my black brothers.
I’ve watched with dry eyes as I held
their poor mothers.
If this makes you uncomfortable then this
is for you.
You’re too blinded by bias to see the dark truth.
I hope this makes some choke on their words.
Let our voices be heard.
Let this serve as an eye opener
From a half-Negro girl.
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.