Take the Chains Off

I just need a moment, let me explain.

How can the world bring me both so much joy and pain.

Pain for the people I don’t know and pain for the people I do.

It’s hard to see the struggle, harder to see the bruise.

I’m writing this at work man because I’m mentally checked out

They kick us while we’re down and refuse to help out

All Lives matter but some lives are left out

Plan A idn’t working so I have to take the next route.

I’m hurt and I hear criticism on how I deal with it.

Don’t like the way I handle my burdens then you live with it.

The point can be right in front of your face and you still miss it

He followed your directions officer and you still hit him.

Say he’s resisting arrest, so you kill him?

They throw his mugshot on the news like that’s the real him.

They really want us all to die for our sins.

But we didn’t sign up to be Jesus and them.

Don’t get me wrong, I still believe in Jesus and them

Still believe in the power of a prayer and a hymn

The oppressors want us defeated, and they’re getting closer.

They don’t really care about black lives or black voters.

It keeps coming in a rapid succession, I’m wondering who’s next

And a system can’t fail those who weren’t in its plan to protect.

And the comments about black on black crime rings hollow

Because when Ray Ray kills Tyrone, jail times follow

Police can kill a black person & watch the protests on tv tomorrow

Looking at another black family on live tv living in sorrow.

It’s a vicious cycle that looks never ending.

They kill our parents then laugh at the fact the black family needs mending.

I see the black women at the front lines, like they always are.

Carrying on through the tough times like they always do.

But some of us tear them down, give them mental scars

But homie, didn’t a black woman give birth to you?

But that’s another story, can’t lose too much focus on this chapter.

They sold us a fairy tale, we expected a happily ever after.

But we now see, happily ever after doesn’t matter.

When in 2016, it seems like the calendar’s moving backwards.

They’re lucky, we don’t want revenge, just equality.

They say everything’s all good, don’t fucking lie to me.

They look at us with envy like we all just hit the lottery.

But I don’t want the world, I just want these chains off of me.

 

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This entry was posted in 20 somethings, Creativity, honesty, poems, self-help, venting and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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