Poem 9

Police going crazy
needs no degree to protect and serve
to kill and walk away
a badge, a taser, a gun
allows for no charges, no conviction.
families are buried in the
caskets with victims.
Mostly poor, mainly brown skinned
makes me look at my surroundings
a little closely
where to run?
where to hide?
why should I hide
and hold hands at vigils
and wrap teddy bears around telephone poles
and see a dead man on a city sidewalk
and see the news not tell the truth
why should 50 plus get shot down
before one charge appears against a police officer?
I’m trying to find metaphors and similes to construct a poem
death is the only word that fits
injustice fits
the parents who are learning their children to
not wear hoodies and eat skittles
not to talk to a cop if he is slowly riding beside you and taunting
not hold a toy gun in the toy department of Walmart
not stand on a NY corner next to loose cigarette peddlers
not stop when lights are flashing behind your car
not to trust the police.
Its sickening and unjust
Its peanut butter with no honey
Its the nation we live in
the states, the cities
the districts
the fabrics of this cloth are singed
Mississippi is still burning
has taken up space in every American city.
And we are crying
posting statuses and crying
holding our mothers’ and crying
swaying and rocking
in unison
we are trying to stand strong
in the face of these mass murders
we are cuddled in our beds
at night
covers pulled up to our noses
fearing what the mourning/morning
will bring
When the new day begins.


About monalisasrandomthoughts

I craft people poems. I laugh out-loud. I love all things. Everything is about order. My movements are chess. Everything to me calculates. I just look like this.
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