"I Can't Breathe"

Cries of “I can’t breathe” rain out from a people

Suffocating under the weight of a world that

Systematically oppresses, marginalizes, and persecutes them.

To be black in America is to live in a constant state of danger

Where yesterday’s enslavement

Provides daily reminders that tomorrow isn’t promised

And should not be expected.

 I have spent my life digesting it all

Allowing an internal rage to burn so passionately

That the smallest corners of my heart

No longer leave room for forgiveness. 

Like others, I’m starving for justice.

Hungry for change, and

Reeling from a lack of nourishment.

 My body’s natural impulse to survive

Has kicked into overdrive

And I’m searching for food in a world

That allows the gluttonous hands of a few

To consume the lion’s share of civil rights sustenance. 

I wish I could scream loud enough for the country to hear its Native Son,

But I can’t

Because “I can’t breathe” …

“I can’t breathe” …

“Please don’t kill me” …

“I can’t breathe” …

 Perhaps my feelings are better left for the tear soaked pages of my diary,

At least there I can find refuge in a home of my own design,

Where I am welcomed, not shunned

Embraced, not rejected

Cherished, not loathed

Loved, not hated. 

But written words are not spoken ones,

And even if they were,

Could anyone hear them?

Or would they continue to fall on deaf ears?

What are we to do when we peacefully cry,

“I can’t breathe;”

Still no one listens? 

I can’t sit,

I can’t march,

I can’t kneel,

And now,

“I can’t breathe.”