Dear America,
What’s
going on? I have this weird feeling you may want me gone.
Each
day my beautiful home feels so estranged,
Like I'm being evicted from this country,
this has to change.
I
thought this was home of the free, land of the brave,
Yet each day someone else is sent home,
land of the grave.
You call it self-defense, but where was the
struggle?
Do these deaths amuse you, are we your
jesters just meant to juggle;
For you entertainment or pleasure? It’s
just so unfair.
Each day brings about so much despair,
Yet you don't care because we're just a
'color'.
Random black faces to dispose of, a dying
culture.
But I still hold faith, a dying light.
That one day the pain will end our welcome
once again in sight.
For those ones you classify as African American,
the "absorbers of light"
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