I cannot be a voice for the voiceless,

If everyone who wants to be heard wants to be louder than the next person,

But no one wants to listen.

We speak of doom but we are a society of sheep,

Herded by our own demise.

 

 

Where colour becomes coloursim.

Race becomes racism.

Where men call the streets home and women call it business.

Teenagers call it an insult.

And Americans call it a graveyard.

 

A place where the darker my skin is,

The deeper my roots are.

A place where being black has been the only thing that has stood the test of time.

And still the world grades us with an F in swear words against us.

A place where the black man has,

Developed a shell for each black insult they threw at him.

So his melanin became his armour and no one could hurt him.

And just when he learnt how not to care,

Learnt how to silence the world and be comfortable in his suit of armor.

They traded insults for bullets.

And masked murder as justice.

 

We all want to be the same,

Be the same characters in a never ending series.

Be approved by the same society that demands change,

But can never start it.

 

We will continue to fight a system that was never set up to protect us.

Continue screaming till our voices run drier than African wells in drought

Till someone hears us.

Till society makes a change.

Till the voice of every man is heard.

 

So don’t take this as another one of those inspirational poems or speeches

I cannot be a voice for the voiceless,

If everyone wants to be heard to be louder than the next person,

But no one wants to listen.