Peace and the broken-hearted
What does that even mean
What does it look like
When you wake up every day knowing that your life is at risk
Not for what you’ve done
Or for any choice you’ve made
But because they look and see mad, bad and violent because of the colour of your skin
That wrapper that protects you and keeps all the inner parts in
That tough yet fragile layer that turns blue and purple at the heavy and unwanted hands
That breaks as the bullet passes through, leaking your red life force onto the pavement
These violent acts of the state against your beautiful black skin
Against your beautiful mind
Against your valuable life
And people say
“Just comply”
“Do as they say”
“Don’t wind them up”
So you do that
And they break you for all to see
Your last moments captured with their knee on your neck, as you say
“I can’t breathe”
But they don’t hear you
They don’t listen
And you stop breathing
What does peace look like
When the civil rights movement has ended
And there are still no civil rights for you?
When the calendar says it’s the 21st century
But people’s actions say 1825?
They say that doing the same thing but expecting a different outcome is insanity
So things need to change
We can’t keep going on like this
Freedom is the key
From mental slavery
From oppression
It’s time to rise
