Black AmeriKKKa

A poem critiquing the theft of black America, and a tribute to the late Pop Smoke

Featured Image credit : REUTERS/Darren Ornitz

They love the way that we dance…

And they love the way that we move…

And they love the way that we rock…

And they love all the shit that we do…

And when we perform for them…

Yeah they’re Finn’ clap for a nigga…

And in their privacy…

They wanna act like a nigga…

That is until it’s time to act like a nigga

That is until it’s time to stand for niggas

That is until we scream BLACK LIVES MATTER

in a rallying cry to stop killing us.

They gonn’ enjoy the strange fruits hanging off the leaves of our pain and suffering they created for us

and when we ask to stop being hanged they’re gonna look at us

“like how dare you beg for human treatment nigger”

They’re gonna plant drugs and guns in our homes and strip our daddies from our homes and assassinate our leaders and expect us to breathe the air they’re feeding us and the falsified narratives and language that we hate each other

and tell us that we hate each other enough to take each other’s lives and to pull ourselves up from our boot straps but every time we pull up our bootstraps they shoot us in the back and steal our boot straps

Amerikkka is a trap that uses freedom as a fallacy to

Kidnap black and brown bodies and exploit and torture them and strip them of their most basic human right,

Life.

And then they pin us against each other in a never ending bond of hopelessness and mental degradation

As I scream these words my ptsd starts to get in so now I gotta get high

Off the cycling screams of my brothers and sisters in agony because they’re being hunted by white supremacy and being told that their lives mean nothing so they eliminate themselves thinking that killing them selves will free them from the stress of existing in this world that wasn’t designed for them.

This shit was designed for us to fail.

And every time we seem to prevail

They find a loose screw in our tracks and derail our trajectory

forcing us to fall off track there’s no place I can go to get low, because they’ll kill us for anything,

waking up,

jogging,

breathing,

trying to find my way home,

pulling out my wallet,

not resisting arrest,

trying to open my glove box,

They gonna kill me because I exist, I never wanted this death wish so why is my execution on your checklist?

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