“Officers, why do you have your guns out?” 

Last words. Kenneth Chamberlain, 66, November 19, 2011.

Boom 

Boom 

Boom (gunshots),

the instant where the innocent become the guilty.

Guilty of a sin one did not know was wrong.

Blackness.

The ultimate crime punished by instant death.

As if being one’s self was reason enough for so-called superior humans to act as God and sentence one to death.

Racism.

The coldness of their stares, the disgust in their eyes, the immediate indication that nothing has changed. 

Making some enraged, pained, quiet even deranged.

Protest.

A noun turned verb.

The wish for change put to action,

The action attached to hope,

The way only few can cope.

“Why did you shoot me?”

 Last words. Kendrec McDade, 19, March 24, 2012

“I don’t have a gun, stop shooting.” 

Last words. Michael Brown, 18, August 9, 2014.

“I can’t breathe.”

 Last words. George Floyd, 46, May 25, 2020.

Age.

Good.

Bad.

Innocent.

Guilty.

Does not matter when the dark skin is so blinding.

Rewinding,

The mentality worked so hard to uphold

But the unconscious racism still finds a way to unfold.

Violence.

Could one define this word as revenge?

Or as a cause and effect?

A cycle.

Bound to occur again,

In this unjust world full of favoritism.

With a sweet-tooth but only for vanilla.

“But when you are tempted, He [God] will also provide a way out so that you can endure it.”

(Verse 1 Corinthians 10:13)

But this addiction, unlike drugs or alcohol, doesn’t just restrict one body, one mind, one soul.

It slowly kills us all as a whole,

Stopping us from obtaining the united goal.

Peace.

A word, untouchable to the mortal mind,

How could it, when we are unable to find, 

Who we even are inside.

Unworthy,

but not completely hopeless, 

We must continue to use our voice,

We have no choice,

Rising against oppression is the only way to rejoice,

In the true beauty of life that is more colorful than just black and white.

“Keep fighting.”

Last words. 17, February 8, 2021. (when I wrote this)