How many times will you stand by
And watch along as we slowly die
What will it take for you to see
That you're not that different from me
How many jokes will it truly take
To realize what's at stake
What kind of tears shall I dispense
To show you this shit is intense
He could be mine, or yours or ours
But he lays dead as his blood sours
She could've been our little queen
But breath and memory's now unseen
How many brethren must die
While you quietly stand aside
Fuck your condolences, your fake regard
SAY SOMETHING NOW & help stand guard
You bring us words & your broken heart
As our bodies are slowly torn apart
Your silence is killing us indeed
While you seep in privilege, we slowly bleed.
This poem was inspired by my friend, Amiyrah Martin, who took to FB Live to courageously show us how she feels. I send her, and all of my friends that feel this way, hugs from afar. I do not have words of comfort.
I don't know what else to do. I don't know what else to say. The tears don't matter. The names don't count. But, we see you Alton. Rest in peace seems like a crock of shit because you would've been just fine without you being killed. I don't know how to make this right.