Breathing Black

Hold your breath boy.

Here come the cops.

If they see us breathing,

they’re gonna stop.

Hands up they’ll say.

Aiming at their prey.

If they don’t shoot.

We’ll catch a boot.

The ground we’ll meet.

Knee to the back, neck,

or cheek.

Pressing at the root.

Air deflating,

life about to go on mute.

Boy, pay attention.

That girl ain’t that cute.

She’s likely to film us.

While the cops get extra brute.

I can’t breathe.

Words we’ll speak.

Gasping for air.

Our pleads,

falling on ears that don’t care.

Bodies getting lifeless,

and weak.

Help us you’d think.

But life has shown,

they will stare at us dying.

Without a caring blink.

Our death,

a victory for their hate.

Cheering inside.

Happy two more brown bodies,

life no longer resides.

Smiling with evil lips.

Thinking of the white air,

we can no longer contaminate.

So, hold your black in boy.

And pray these cops,

don’t feel like killing black men.

Today.