The Unfortunate Cry of Another Black Man
A poem

Why are you acting surprised? I guess you never saw me coming up. Like me now, reaching up for something that you always thought that we could never have. Because where we coming from, life has always been a struggle. You fight, and you pray, hoping to see another day.
Young dreamers, full of hope, full of dreams. But they will never live long enough to know what it all means. We live in slums, and most of us will die before we turn 25. And our mommas, they cry each and every single day Because every day, they lose another child to street crime.
You call us thugs and treat us badly. And when we stand up for our right, you tell us to suck it up or be gunned down. The unfortunate cry of another black man.
He was shouting, don’t shoot me, don’t shoot me, unarmed but a white cop all that he saw was the dark coat that covered his skin. And that was all he needed to justify his fears. And so with his hands reaching swiftly for his gun from his holster, Another young, innocent black man was sent to the grave.






