It’s day eight of National Poetry Month and today’s poem was inspired by the division that exists in the black community, where you have to think or be like everyone else. You have to jump on every bandwagon and are not allowed to have your own way of thinking or processing things.
My stance has always and will always be that Black Lives Matter, but no one and, I mean, no one can tell me what that looks like. No one is going to force me to jump on any bandwagon of ideas. I am saddened by the attack on black lives. Period. That includes the loss of life at the hands of Lil Pookie over some trifling ass gang shit (excuse my French) and the loss of life at the hands of Officer White.
We all have one life to live and life should be valued as a precious commodity. It’s not though. And that makes me terribly sad.
Black Like Me
You people are choking me
with your righteous & enlightened
& I can’t breathe. Your
I’m so much blacker than you ‘tude
is suffocating me. Release me.
I am struggling to stay free.
I know the proclamation was a lie,
a façade of eradication, to try to
eliminate attitudes & beliefs that kept
my ancestors from being free. But
here’s what I want to get you to see:
After being a slave for hundreds of years,
it’s gonna be more than a notion to
Your enlightened & conscious ideas
don’t fit me. Got me struggling
to be free to think for myself.
You don’t own my struggle &
you don’t own my feet. You don’t
know how far I walked, just to be me.
I can be black like me
black like you. I can do
what works for me. Because
as the world turns, it gives
me one life to live & I don’t
have to give it over to you,
for you to dice & chop apart with your
malnourished ideas about what it means
to be black & free
thinking or black
& free me.
Peace & Love,