Lessons for my Black Children
Why do we raise them so hard?
Build walls of granite, stone
armor so thick we can no longer
see the beauty of their dark skin tone.
The struggle is real and very alive.
Teach them to strive for the top
while you know they will never reach it.
How can we direct this poison
this fury?
How do we live like this
when the acid of injustice burns holes
into the goodness we are born with,
drips from our tear ducts like rain
searing our cheeks
leaving scars tracking the pain
caused to our children?
So, anger is our spark to action.
A fire that propels us
like a rocket into the pitch black night
sky where we are above all the petty bullshit
and shine like the stars.
Smile with a joy so natural, instinctual
the acid is expelled on the air
of our laughter.