The house is on fire…

Regardless if it’s a conspiracy.

Dead bodies still lay cold on the ground.

Families now have holes that can never be filled,

like the holes in his chest

and the holes in her back.

Like the hole my heart that mourns for the lives lost.

No more value placed on a human beings life.

No more lives lost.

No more mass shootings.

No more killing.

No more murdering

No more innocence and peace lost.

My heart cannot handle it.


Gone are the days where we walk down the streets,

thinking that we are free.

Paranoia is the zip code that our minds now live it.

Distrust fills our heart and anger clouds our judgement.

These are not peaceful times.

As a Black (strike one) Muslim (strike two) woman (strike three),

Am I supposed to be out?

Those that I identify with are harassed, discriminated, oppressed,

and murdered in cold blood each day.

These things are getting closer and closer to home.

No one has the luxury of pretending that everything is okay anymore.

Racial profiling, systematic oppressions, false accusations, wrongful deaths…

Wrong is wrong and there is no justification for that.


Will my father or brother or husband be next?

Will I?

Will you?


What is left of this world?

What future are we giving our children?

What future?

…if we’re all dead in the streets






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