SunShines, The unfortunate series of events and the killing of Michael Brown have set deep in my spirit, like so many others I’m sure. Just thinking about this incident as well as the senseless end of life for Trayvon Martin, Jordan Davis, and many others (especially in the Chicago area) brought to mind a poem that I wrote four years ago…
Shhh don’t you hear it?
Shhh don’t you feel it?
Shhh don’t you see it?
Shhh don’t you smell that?
I’m our youth hear me roar.
I don’t want to be in crisis
Anymore, no more of
The anger that spells danger
Masking the depression and
Sadness I feel nor understand.
My shout is louder and I don’t want to bite.
I am fighting for whatever, not sure what, with all of my might.
I push and shove without consequence.
And never once, until too late, do you acknowledge it.
When a short life is taken and gone…
You want to throw up arms,
yelling….we are in crisis and are always causing harm.
Then wondering what is it that WE need to do…
Not knowing what I need from you is clear to me
So finding my own way is key.
You all blame my tragedies on the music, technology, and sins of the world.
They can not raise me.
But look within. The man in the mirror does not lie.
You are all knowing that you are not all that you should be for me.
You want me successful without putting anything into it.
Where will I learn this?
School does what it can do in its 8, but how much more
can they take?
First teacher is at home, ask yourself where were you?
Don’t shun me now. Don’t try to rule me now.
Reflections lie in the eye of the beholder.
How will I know what potentials I have if you have fallen short of your own?
Feelings of invincibility and the cares of the now rule me.
My actions speak impulsiveness into a reality.
Did you know I do not yet possess the
capabilities to rationalize anything right on my feet?
Why expect this of me?
Tattoos of words you speak are wrapped all around…
You will be nothing
They are stuck in my head.
Do you hear them? Shhh…please listen I want you to hear me.
You let them drip from your lips so carelessly.
I pick them up and use them to build my path-where will it lead?
They are my excuse to explain who I am to you.
Who you see before you.
A Youth in crisis.
Angry, unruly unyielding
Because you made me.
Now what?? Is it too late for me?
Won’t you help me now? Show me how to find my way?
Living in the SunShine,