Like the midnight sky on a winter night
Frost bite threatens to creep up upon our toes
While we lay asleep
Dreaming no little dreams
While black boys kill other black boys like cops and robbers,
But when we wake, it is no longer a game
Robbed of their innocence, hands up, don’t shoot.
The color of the blood that runs down the streets of
Durban, South Africa
No remorse, No love
Just a black hole in place of what once used to be a heart
Action dies behind these trending hashtags that suck our energy.
Like the melanin of my skin
Kissed by the lips of God
Glistening in the sun
While sent to the fields because it’s too dark to be considered beautiful.
Like the blood that flows down my legs
Because everyman wants to encompass the gem that lies between the two
Like the blood of forced entries and unwanted mixed babies
So we lie on these abortion tables, ready to kill the black race
Not knowing what it feels like to be loved
There is no love that lives here
So how can I love this child inside if me…
So we lie on the abortion tables, ready
Black don’t crack
But we stare through shards of broken glass
Blaming the mirror for the imperfections that we see
Searching for pieces of ourselves
When we need to be searching for peace within ourselves.
It’s time to celebrate the culture
Embrace the beautiful melanin that kisses our skin
The curls that hang high, reflecting our crowns
Be proud of black,
For we have overcome and endured so much
We have had dreams and made movement for change
150 years removed from slavery
We need to stand together and take that next step
The question is,
Will you be ready when the time comes?