by Sherrell Faythe

So very difficult to translate emotions into words...
Watching helplessly the injustice reappearing
Never ending
On our sons 
To live above stereotype
Is out of space... 
To live on the sun 
*You know, there are works to make space vacations possible?
As our sons are praying to breed 
Latter thought to succeed 
Can they live with only the numbers they are birthed with 
or must they be labeled by a penal institution bar code 
that is enabled to disable their minds as simultaneously as it disables their seeds?
Such an ongoing affair 
Covert Nazi warfare
Our kind
Brilliant spirits died in hopes of opening our minds
Yet there is no awakening            
We are dying before time  
Before time 
Trying so desperately 
So blindly to survive
Master...excuse me officer?
Shall I tell my offspring to obey?
Raise his hands and don't run away?
Shall I tell him to fight?
Don't regard or acknowledge those fairytale stories of equal rights?
*You know, I've told him we were all the same so many nights?
Shall I continue to lay him down, peacefully?
Knowing his obedience may be the end of his life and a thorn forever to live in me...
Does a mother ever have peace who buries her son?
Tears deep and heartfelt for the mothers and fathers 
who have lost the ones God created for them to love  
-Once and sometimes still to the stupidity of gang violence 
-Now, more publicized, to the justified shootings from the "protector's" gun 
No one to carry a cross or a consolidated message of unity over a bridge 
Our fairytale-
Such ignorance-
We have been disabled 
Still suffering ramifications from the -1712- James River speech  
So very deceived
Lost and bereaved 
Still searching, and yes, this is 2015

2015 by Sherrell Faythe

© Copyright 2015. All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be duplicated or copied without the expressed written consent of the author.

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