I'm writing, I keep on writing
My mind is speeding through with so much rhyming.
I'm looking at the news seeing what it's protraying about August 9, 2014.
Listening closely, and catrefully about what they're saying.
A mother crying about the murder of her son.
Oh my God, that could be my mom crying about the murder of her son.
I keep on thinking what if a cop ask me to stop?
Because of the African American race in me
then told me to give him my ID.
What if he's not in the right mindset?
What if when I reeach for my wallet?
When I finished writing a 140 words page full.
I drop my pencil
And then fell asleep.
When I woke up
My mother read what I wrote.
She asked, "Where did this come from?"
I told her look what's on the television screen.
When I saw her eyes, I saw the same fear that my paged described flowing through me.