(written in the POV of all the African American victims of police brutality)
I was sick of being harassed
by all these cops in uniforms.
their job is to protect us,
it's there written in cuneiform.
I wasn't selling loosies,
I could've sworn on my life,
but my life was taken from me.
I wasn't armed, not a knife,
gun, nothing, I was just using my arms.
that cop was being too aggressive,
it just got me alarmed.
I didn't mean to, I swear!
is flinching a crime?
if so, then I'm so sorry that I crossed that line,
but listen to me,
for just 15 seconds,
my face was pressed into the ground,
by then I knew I'd 'learned my lesson'
but that wasn't enough, was it?
no, I needed to die!
my face was shoved into the concrete,
and I started to cry:
'I CAN'T BREATHE'
Eleven times, it's all there written.
Land of the free? these cops are so smitten
with the idea that people with the darker skin
are here to wreak havoc.
we can't give up on this fight,
we have to win.
Still, I live!
in the form of tears,
tears from the people
who have suffered long years.
Discrimination nation,
lack of respect takes root.
They're all shouting something,
'HANDS UP DON'T SHOOT'
it makes me proud
to see this rebellion in our youth.
I may not live now,
but I do in spirit.
Listeners,
shout 'BLACK LIVES MATTER'
into their ears,
and make them hear it.
YOU ARE READING
SOFTIE
Puisisure, my heart is fragile, but my mind is strong. sure, I talk quietly, but I will stand for what I think is right. sure, I'm a softie, but there's bravery in being soft.
