PAD Challenge Day 12: An AA in A

PAD Challenge Day 12: Write a poem using at lease three of the following words: convict, great, play, race, season, and voice.

 An AA in A

When I'm not in America,

the first question I am often asked is:

“What is it like to be an African-American in America?

Sometimes-at-times,

I pause to think what I should or should not say.

Sometimes-at-times,

I want to play it off and nonchalantly say,

“Oh, it’s not that bad. I’m ok.”

Sometimes-at-times,

I do not want to reply,

just ig ‘em and escape.

Or would that be the rude,

obnoxious American way?

So, I politely say:

Every day I feel like I’m in open season.

My black life resembles wildlife.

I feel like an endangered species,

threatened by terror and the errors of American history,

more vulnerable to those that prey as I roam

the land of the free, home of the brave.

Every day, there are great debates about my race,

American’s loose change and ungodly ways,

as if I created the Black Codes and Jim Crow

that still govern all 50 states today.

I wake up in my skin,

sometimes-at-times afraid.

Somehow, someway I discover black pride

between the fear of being penetrated by hollow points.

I have nightmares about becoming strange fruit

or violently attacked without the possibility of

the convict not being convicted.

Sometimes-at-times,

I wake up early, stay up late  

to be sure that I am not 

resting in peace before my time.

I even thought about screaming my name

into a voice box just in case

somebody else forget to say it...

 

D’ElegantOne


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