How To Raise A Black Boy

Does the juxtaposition of the words “Black” “Lives” &”Matter” make you upset?

Black bodies hanging from poplar trees, would you have wept?

When a black child is murdered by police,

Do you ask “why” or “why didn’t he get on his knees”

When armed shooters with lack of color

Are still allowed to see their mother.

Black fathers taken from their children before birth

Black children six feet beneath earth

Naive young me used to question why so often.

I remember asking my mom why I couldn’t have a nerf gun.

I promised I wouldn’t shoot it at, or hurt anyone.

Mom, it’s cold why can’t I wear my hood at night?

It’s not in my eyes I promise I can see alright.

Danny and Nick are doing it, why can’t I play ding dong ditch

Jesus Christ mom stop being such a god damn bitch.

I always viewed my parents as overprotective

Thought I was being sheltered and I couldn’t tell why

My dad always seemed a bit aggressive

All because they were doing things just to keep me alive

I was never awarded my adolescence

Coming home from school to added lessons

I wasn’t afforded the luxury of childhood and silly decisions

Because of others misinformed filthy religions

I never knew what it was like to be boisterous and careless

My mother feared some cop would point at me and care less

I could have been just words on a tombstone

Instead of you reading my thoughts and my words being known

It wasn’t until now that I understand why I wasn’t allowed to make mistakes

Until seeing black victims juvenile crimes resurrect all whilst the white shooter didn’t get a court date

I know now.

I know now that my life doesn’t matter more than that of a deer

“Is it hunting season on a niggas ass” wasn’t a joke, but actually fear.

Black bodies no longer hang on poplar trees

Black bodies now lie in the streets

Silence is empowering the other side

So I no longer jail my tongue behind my teeth.

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