Sat, 06/02/2018 - 15:21 -- Justyce

What do I have to do?

What do I have to do to show you I’m Human?

I breathe this air, just like you

walk this land just like you

brush my hair as do you

or what’s left of there but, anywho

Ten fingers

Ten fingers, Two hands

Two feet, One head

Black skin is different but we all bleed red

and I can feel!

Isn’t that insane?

I have feelings too, how utterly profane

I feel joy, madness, even drops of rain

I feel love just the same

just the same I feel pain and I…

well I just wish you could relate.

Racism’s a bitch, it Is

so why leave so much room for such hate?

The layers upon layers, as many layers as

there are dark shades of my skin

seem to partition your perception of me as Human,

it’s a Shame.

A Shame your vision only portrays humans

with fair skin, and those of an ‘unusual’ shade

you tend to treat and unfair way

A Shame how often Black bodies find coffins

so frequent it’s damn near a tradition since the 1800’s

look how far segregation’s came!

the concept itself has remained the same

the only changes thats happened is now

these bastards wear badges and

drive challengers from our taxes and

there’s shootings rather than lynchings…

except that’s not the same for, say her name, Sandra Bland.

that beautiful, bold, Black woman

could’ve easily been me

but its A Shame how she was just one

of Many

How inhumane, how you feel nothing-

no sameness of pain, no empathy, no Shame

for the suffering of my people

how you don’t feel a drop anything.

So alien, so numb, so blind

your sight to see I and my kind

as anything but


Poetry Slam: 
This poem is about: 
My community
My country
Our world
Guide that inspired this poem: 


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