An American’s nightmare
Hello, Officer, I just saw that you shot a man of my same skin tone
My hands won’t go near the wallet in my pocket
So leave your holster alone
That could’ve been me you know, an innocent brother of you, created out of the Creator’s image
And I dub you Cain in this fable
You’re still forgiven for the pass of Abel
Now don’t lie and fabricate how this human your size was going to kill you with just flesh
Who had no intention to wring hands around your neck and take your life
But you take one anyway
I have it all on video and I should run out of fear for myself
But I have to record this too because I’m done with being lethargic to the cause and sick of progress being stagnant
You’d be more concerned with a man killing a lion than murdering the so-called “King of the Jungle”
The Black man in the hood
Instead, let’s call this king a scholar
With a thirst for knowledge that isn’t street smarts
And the hood is a community, not just a forsaken wasteland where Black-on-Black crime comes to a halt when you’re around
But that’s how you see it
And I’m glad you don’t represent the majority of your occupation
But your representation sadly looks like the majority to me
Because the negligence, not mistakes, has been too much to zip my lip for
Now tell me, why did you shoot when he ran home to his mom with medicine he bought from the corner store?
“I was right in my decision,“ he said
“I don’t make the rules, I enforce them.”
“No, you do make the rules!” I retort, but they’re your imagination
They’re not our rights
Justice isn’t watching a man half your age lose from the grave in the court of law
You should see the new trail of tears from the families whose lives you’ve broken
But I guess imprisonment to your conscience is some kind of consolation for your guilt
If you have any
Again, what if you shot me?
I’d spit out my spit, my blood, my diction
Scream it till you shoot me again; that’s a fact, not fiction
I pray I’d be the last one slain for the violence to stop
Some whites scared of the Blacks
Some Blacks scared of white police
Uncomfortable and not safe are the thoughts we keep
This is the American Nightmare
The distraction from the dream
But it’s really the obstacle they told us to jump over
And instead of ducking from bullets
You say, “Put your hands up, then lay down!”
But remember, you shot a king
So we just lost a crown
Honestly, I don’t know what’s wrong with this world
We’re getting shot for looking suspicious and for not using our turn signal
Yes, all lives matter, but this is about half of my race
But that race becomes full when I am seen
Hypodescent
Put a white person in the Black’s shoes
Would they have been shot?
Would they be left for dead in a Mickey D’s parking lot?
Would they have justice not be served in their honor?
Would their children be living life without their father?
The way I see it is that this is incomprehensible
My mind can’t wrap itself around the cracked fingernails that dirty the prison cell
And they collect those in a plastic bag, the same one placed over the head
A staged asphyxiation
Yes, I know this doesn’t apply to every situation
But there are many stories that we don’t hear about
I heard one last week like this that didn’t make the news
And I’ll admit that I’ve been more lazy to speak up than to get a new pair of shoes
It’s time that society becomes materialistic to life
We need to value each other’s
Because the second we realize we don’t
Is the second we lose another brother