Black Conversations

To be clear I don’t want your sympathy or your empathy.

What I need is the life that was promised to me when my spirit was placed into my mother’s womb.

A life of discovery, patience, vitality with freedom to love hard, live light and laugh feverishly every single day.

Well why don’t you pray?

Praying for a promise that already lies within me.

Access to these things God already gave me the key.

If I pray will this prevent the cops from shooting me?

Will it prevent COVID from consuming my family?

Will it clear the vision for those who see only my brown skin as a sin?

Well you know we trying to do better, but this system is where it all begins.

So why don’t you pray I say?

Praying for my people to fail so yours can prevail.

Access to these things the plantations made sure your lineage secured a generational key.

If you pray would you trade places with me?

Will your prayer be to finally see me?

The invisible strike of your lashes from the whip you never held in your hands.

Well you know my scars are beginning to heal from the trauma of America’s land.