Black Blood

A poem acknowledging the havoc within the african community.

When black blood drips it hits silently across nations.

It drips and crashes like whispers in the woods, heard by no God, felt by no being.

Black blood is screaming from sun soaked lips;

pleading for that assistance that’s been given to the world’s most wanted, but never these men.

Cause the world’s most wanted bare fairer skin;

skin more compelling to the fools of authority. 

When fair skin drips, the world rushes to save the light.

When black blood drips, it’s to dark for the world to see.

So we allow it to slip slyly into the deep where the black blood creeps.