struggle
I use to look up to Superman
I really looked up to Superman
The thing that use to get me
Is how he fly around the city
Close my eyes at night
Wondering if a little black boy could reach
Those same heights
Exquisite beyond wonder, woman
layers peeled back like sheets on a 100 degree night
heavy with discomfort and wet
from tears and my hearts breaking
We protest in the loudest voice the injustice of the “justice system”
We protest our dehumanization
We protest our victimization
We protest our torture
We protest the harsh treatment by the “justice system”
She was born to a single mother
Father tried to come back when she was ten
He came with clothes and gifts, but she was already
cold within
On the path I was given, I’ve seen many things…
Devils with no horns…
Angels without wings…
Flowers that never bloomed, to roses that grew from rocks…
Dreams locked in a room, minds glow in the dark…
As with the many courses laid, many choices were made
Some for better, some for worse, others still being played…