I Am Trayvon Martin

No justice, JUST US....

I am Trayvon Martin in my hoodie as I walk,
and grip my juice and candy; it’s all good or so I thought,
‘til one man with a pistol peeped the gorgeous Timberlands,
I wore and shot me down; his name is Georgie Zimmerman.

A jury of my so-called peers acquitted him of crime,
and called it “self-defense” for why he hit me with the nine,
the nation was appalled and while support is locked and good,
it’s still not much to see Barack Obama rock a hood.

Ironic how our people will unite for sudden death,
but will not show togetherness in light of something else,
it takes a young black man to die for the hood to show their love,
but young black men in the hood die EVERYDAY yet no one does,

a Facebook ad campaign for them; it just don’t make much sense,
and what the media will do’s completely up to them,
while yes I died in frozen blood; I’m gone and won’t be back,
y’all must re-aim y’all’s focus and the planet’s gon see that,

you will not kill us all without a nation at your door,
demanding that there’s justice but there’s none cause Blacks are poor,
as well as uninformed; misguided; folks will rue the time,
cause I am Trayvon Martin and I do approve this rhyme.

©2013
The Cunning Linguist

Author's Note

This piece was of course inspired by the ruling in the George Zimmerman trial.