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They wear blue and black

Painted smiles on their face ready to enforce peace

Yet they walk around with guns on their belt

Ready to kill at any moment

They walk with blood on their hands

Shooting us like a hunting game bragged about

The public watches yet nothing is done

Leaving families in ruins,

Relationships broken,

And dreams unfinished


Don’t you ever wonder

if this might be the last time-

The last time we see an innocent person shot

Whether it be a 12 year old boy or a 43 year old man

The last time we see a cop get away with murder

The very last time that we see another black body thrown away

As if it was just another death

A death that would not mean anything in the next month

Or is this just an addition to the ongoing list


I am a daughter of a tale spoken far and wide

There are stories about my ancestors

Their work, their culture, their history

A sad tale told at dinner tables

Tales told before going to bed

Tales that involved those who had to listen in silence

Tales that involved anger brewing beneath with a hint of sadness and fear

Tales that involved being scared of the color of our skin

A talk that set us aside from every other race

“If you are stopped, Don't talk back

Do what they say

Because if you don't,

It could mean your life.”

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