Fight Black Boy Fight

My passion for the children is easily noticeable and to watch my own race being treated with such uncertainty for the future makes me sad. This poem is dedicated to every black boy in America

A teacher asks a young black boy what do you want to be when u grow up?

He answers with ALIVE.

 Its a shame we deprive

our kids of their future no matter how bright it seems

and its a shame we locked his doors of opportunity like its deemed possible

for him to fight the battle of prison cells drugs and violence.

He's dying in silence.

The young boy whose eulogy is memorized before twenty one

and childhood is stripped away without the fun.

This is for the black boy whose life don't matter

and he's left battered and broken.

This is for the boy that knows his life is measured by a token

and the number of people it takes to carry his casket.

Left ship wrecked in a basket.

No father figure so he follow the way of the streets

praying one day his victory will come and he do not have to this beast.

Hold on little man change is coming.

Hold on little man the chains will be broken.

Your choices are not set in stone and you are not alone.

So hold on black boy for the strength and joy of becoming a man is soon to be here.

Take a stand and when the teacher asks what you want to be

just look at her and respond just me...