Untitled (for the struggle) rough draft

We get up
only to get knocked down
and disrupted we slump
into patterns that we think are good
which are wrong
yet a lesson is learned in the madness that is right
makes sense?
the struggle
is balancing on the tightrope of good and ugly
skipping over bad
wiping red out of eyes to see clearly
through the lens are images of black people dying
images of dead bodies and blood covered clothes
distractions are creeping up on us
trying to take our focus away
sending us into peril and we post our statuses as resolutions
proudly we help the ignorance
igniting the power to keep feeding us
people who struggle do not live in a bubble
where everybody knows your name
and waves when riding by
or does favors for you
We visit those bubbles
braver souls migrate to said places
we do not live there
the stench of fresh kill is in our noses
we are suffocating breathing in decay
as a nation
waiting on the next…
expecting what’s to come
hoping it calms our spirits
a bit…
hoping this struggle will stop…


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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