Blog #5

Hey there. Here is a poem I had written back when the Black Lives Matter Movement was going on.

This was the second poem I had ever written. The first poem I had written was published in the Summer Poets book my sixth grade year.

African Blood

Black culture, black race, black blood, blank space,

Frozen in time with no time at all,

Black and white brawl, privilege killed all,

Breaking the law,

No justice,

Suppressed being, no protection,

Shaken up hopeless no doses,

Of an anecdote,

To stop the violence,

No confession no silence,

The defiance of a defiant stirred up by police defying the law,

No human rights no natural rights,

No minds right,

No gun laws, 

No bright light to reach for,

Sick and tired of being sick and tired,

Freedom and equality is what my ancestors fought for,

Shut the door they follow us,

They want more to take it from us,

Our right to live,

His hands red with black blood,

This is the deed he did,

Black brothers selling and dying,

Black mothers burying and crying,

Melanin running through our veins,

So they put us to shame,

Take it back to feeling that slave ship sway,

Take it back to lynching and the KKK,

African Americans enslaved,

Filled with rage,

We retaliate,

And they get mad,

Only knowing not of what they did,

Children screaming dad only to see eyes wet and skin red,

They beat him senseless,

Leave him dead,

With an expressionless expression,

A motionless motion,

To many of my black brothers and sisters in heaven due to this consistency,

Of brutality,

So what are we to do,

An education,

Raising black kings and queens,

A textbook to read,

Notes to write,

A college degree,

Successful human beings and an understanding,

Is what we need to win this fight.

-Aniya Simpson