3 comments

African American Black People of Color


B A N G .


The

r i n g

of gunshots travel through the air.


B A N G .

B A N G .

B A N G.

B A N G.

B A N G.

B A N G.

B A N G.


They won't stop shooting.


T h e y

t h i n k

w e ' r e

t h e

e n e m y.


If you think racism is no longer prominent in today's world, you're wrong. Even a bat could see the way they look at us, like we wronged them by being born. How could you just stand and watch? We protest, peacefully of course, and we're called criminals.


D i d

y o u

k n o w

a

b l a c k

p e r s o n

i s

e i g h t

t i m e s

m o r e

l i k e l y

t o

b e

w r o n g f u l l y

c o n v i c t e d ?


That's right. How unfair is that?


W e

w a n t

j u s t i c e.


W e

w a n t

e q u a l i t y.


I s

t h a t

t o o

m u c h

t o

a s k ?


For some people, it probably is.


It would be 'so hard' to treat us the same as a white person.


We apparently don't count as people.


Why can't they see past a single color?


It doesn't make sense.


Neither does the bullet in my shoulder.


W r o n g

p l a c e ,

w r o n g

t i m e ,

one might say.


I don't think so.


They knew what they were doing when they pulled the trigger.


They knew they could take an innocent life.


T h e y

d i d n ' t

c a r e .


The policemen rushed over to me.


"Suspect down." I heard.


Suspect? Really? An eleven year old girl?


I heard sirens, both police and ambulance.


I

c l o s e

m y

e y e s .









I wake up to bright lights.


"Momma?" I ask. A nurse smiles at me.

"Your parents are on their way," he says.

The room was large for a hospital. My shoulder had been bandaged, it felt much better now. The only pain left was emotional.


When I was younger, I wanted to be a police officer.

To me, they were heroes.

A f t e r

a l l ,

w e r e n ' t

t h e y

s u p p o s e d

t o

k e e p

t h e

c i t y

s a f e ?


I reached for the remote on the bed-stand and turned on the T.V.


Wait a second, was that me?

My picture was in the corner of the screen. A news reporter mouthed my name multiple times.


I turned the volume up.


"An eleven year old girl was shot today near Lanchester Park." The reporter said. "Police said the girl 'matched' the description of the 30 year old suspect."


I turned the television off and shut my eyes.




H o w

d i d

t h i s

h a p p e n ?


W h y

d i d

t h i s

h a p p e n ?


. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .



We say tomorrow will bring change


We forget about today because the next day won’t be the same 


We say mentalities have to be remodeled


We understand the world isn’t right, yet we still dawdle


Some talk but don’t listen


Some listen but don’t talk


How will anything ever get done? 


. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .











Imagine a world where people are treated the same. 


Not judged by their race, gender, orientation, or fame. 


Maybe in the far future, we won’t have to worry.


Currently people are always in a hurry.  


Perhaps the world will change on its own.


Where people won’t start their lives with one massive loan.


Is it possible for one person to alter society? 


Or do we all have to stand together to fight old mentalities? 


Either way expectations are changing. 


Despite everything, the world is rearranging.  


What matters is justice for all. 


For every human, short or tall. 


. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .






Upon us all, is a threat to humankind


Yet some of us stand oblivious and blind


To every injustice committed today.


Words cannot describe, words cannot say,


how tired and angry we are to obey.


We will stand up tall and fight for hope


We will rise from the ashes, we will climb the rope


Of happiness and justice for every human.


It's time to blossom like blumens.


. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .


J U S T I C E


F O R


A L L






E Q U A L I T Y


F O R


A L L





F R E E D O M


F O R


A L L




L I B E R T Y


F O R


A L L






B L A C K


L I V E S


M A T T E R













F o o t n o t e:


C h a r a c t e r s

a r e

f i c t i o n a l ,

h o w e v e r,

t h e y

a r e

b a s e d

o n

t r u e

s t o r i e s.



Y o u r

v o i c e

c a n

b r i n g

c h a n g e .




P o l i c e

b r u t a l i t y

i s

s t i l l

a

l a r g e

i s s u e

i n

t o d a y ' s

w o r l d.


H e l p

f i x

i t.




April 06, 2021 23:49

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3 comments

Cookie Carla🍪
16:52 May 12, 2021

I like how your story was so poignant and relevant. It had a poetry type vibe to it and I loved it!! I liked how you rambled off facts and then went into story mode about the 11-year old girl. I really really did connect with this story and it was such a good read Would you like to read my story "No I Am Not Ok"? It's kind of on the same basis as this story as well as all the other stories written before this was posted. Of course you don't have to but it'd be appreciated :)

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Show 0 replies
Phoenix Feather
00:24 Apr 07, 2021

Amazing!

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. .
00:03 Apr 07, 2021

Brilliant.

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