“Nothing New” by Mikyle Robinson

To me this is nothing new

Another black man killed on the news

I try to stay positive but still sing the blues

How can I stay lifted when they keep tearing me down?

How can I let my voice be heard without making a sound?

I wonder if I’m next or if I’m just another number

Because I sit here thinking about all the black live lost this summer

I’m only seventeen just trying to survive

I want to be like my idols, you know the ones still alive

The ones who had wives, families, jobs, ambitions

Why do I feel like no one is listening?

I just want to live my life and have fun

And not think that every officer thinks I have a gun

But how can I be fed up and tired

When all the other kids want more to be desired

You know what I’ll be the change, the positive motion

And embrace my color, my hair, and cocoa butter lotion

Because for me it was when I was eleven

Still in middle school just tryna’ get even

Then I heard a name on the tv that night

Another boy, the same age as me, his name was Tamir Rice

I was confused at the time not really understanding, you see

That a kid could get shot who looked just like me

Don’t worry y’all, don’t sweat it, we’ll get there

Because we stand for equality it’s only fair

So, when you say that this poem is for us

The world needs more love, more acceptance, and more trust

Photo credit: RandyRooi@pixabay.com

MIRRORED LOVE (a reverse poem) BY:OLIVIA CLARK

I LOVE YOU

YOU’LL NEVER HEAR ME SAY

“I SEE YOU’RE NOT THE ONE FOR ME”

WHEN THOSE LIGHTS COME ON BRIGHT,

LOOKING STRAIGHT AT ME

THE ONE WHO WILL ALWAYS HAVE YOUR BACK,

THROUGH ETERNITY

BETTER THAN TO THINK YOU ARE GOING;

TO BE ALONE

IT’S OKAY TO BELIEVE IN SOMETHING,

LOVE IS IN THE AIR EVEN ON THE PHONE

What am i? by Princess Merritt

 

I am not a victim

You can not convince me

I blamed myself

A child i was no longer

I will not cry

I won’t shed a tear

All i could do was is stand in fear

When i saw myself i had to ask

What is a victim.

Ophelia by Jaylah Easter

“He is dead and gone, lady, He is dead and gone; At his head a grass-green turf, At his

heels a stone.” (IV.V.XXX)

The warm whisper of a melody winds through the air, escaping like the last embers of

an abandoned fire

From the chilled lips of crippled innocence flows the omen of foretold sleep
Up she goes, wracked with the weight of a sort of neglected recklessness, heavy
To braid-to weave-to intertwine; to speak through those which so romantically offer life

and beseech upon death

Go silently; succumb to the suffocation of the mouth and the suppression of the mind
The ferality of consciousness, the human abyss, danker than the lure of the murky

water Continue reading “Ophelia by Jaylah Easter”

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑