Tears From A Broken Bird

tears from a confused bird You wana know why I'm mad? You wana know why? Of course well here's why? I'm mad. I'm mad because people are getting fame for doing absolutely nothing. Not just that but People are glorifying the "streets". Hash tagging "thug life" and running around like it's everyone's dream to be lullibied to the sound of gun shots "click clockking" on the pavements only to wake up to grey skies and foggy clouds with the rain washing away all of the blood because God doesn't want for all of his youngest sheeps to have to see what blood actually looks like. Sweetie, go back in and play with your Barbies. People walking on their way to church popping their children's hands as they grab the teddies on the streets because, they're just kids and don't understand the meaning behind leaving teddies and candles on the streets. Because there seems to be a lot more teddies than people on these streets these days. All the while the elder church members praying to God in hopes that their children do not end up the next ones with a teddy and candle to their names. Having parents meant either having a mother who was strung out on drugs or having a mother who was so protective taking you every weekend to BINGO and when you ask why she simply says "Because I want to get out of the damn hood" but see ah sweet dear mother when will you see that the people who invented this cruel game only did it to have us play in the Hunger Games, so much to lose but so little to gain. Fame and fortune you shall win but at what price, only time shall tell. A girl dreams of having that 99 cent wedding where even the bride has to apologize for working and the honeymoon starts and ends with the husband yelling and beating up on her. "So how was the honeymoon?" "oh it was everything I could ever dream of" replies the girl who looks well rested and glowing with happiness but oh my what a blessing make up is. I'm scared to have a son because all due to the color of his skin he will be considered a "thug", stereotyped, and immediately considered from the autopist as "dead by gunshot". If i have a daughter will she be raped by some monster who is more animal than man and after becoming pregnant labled as yet again another statistic? When I was little I witnessed a group of six boys kill a cop with nothing more than bricks. People questioned if the children were okay and of course they were but that cop had a 6 year old daughter and a wife and ain't no one asked them shit, but I guess that is perfectly acceptable. No matter the age, race, ethnicity, color, religion, or species blood is still blood, violence is still violence. Why dont you walk up to that 6 year old and tell her that because her father didn't fight back and because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time that his death was justified. If you like to read, if you're educated you're immediately kicked out of the "black delegation" and told that you're not black. Like oh am I supposed to apologize for being smart? Well it's good to know that my own race prefers fakes over real.

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741