Published August 12, 2014 by hrhdana

My words are angry.

My poetry

doesn’t even feel like me.

I know love is healing

but I don’t feel very loving.

Dead Black bodies in the street

murdered with impunity

I’m so angry!

And I’m not the type to advocate anarchy

but I relate to those people raging in the street.

I understand.

I empathize.

I sit at work with tears in my eyes.

Why does a mother feel the need to humanize

her murdered child for a public quick to demonize?

“He was college bound.

A good boy.

My only child. My pride and joy.”

She knows they probably won’t care

about this pain that seems too much to bear.

They won’t look in to her eyes

and see themselves there.

Jesus fix it!

I’m so angry!

Police dogs aimed at angry people

doesn’t quell rage

it builds it.

They ain’t shit.

Pushing buttons on a bomb

then pretending surprise when it explodes.

But the sheeple still see animals

because they WANT to.

Fighting for humanity

Fighting for the right to breathe

Trying to retain my sanity

Hiding the anger within me

Sojourner asked “Ain’t I a woman?”

Dana asks, “Ain’t we fucking humans?”

Post racial America

disappoints again.

3 comments on “Human

  • These words are the type that plant the seeds of revolutionary change within the hearts and minds of society. Our poets and other artists reflect the vital signs of a community, of a people.
    I thoroughly enjoyed reading this part of you, Sister Dana.

  • This is so… words are failing me…. Potent.. Powerful. These words should be projected far and wide. So heartbreaking, so real. Something has to give… Things cannot go on like this.

  • Talk to me.

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