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?
I pause to think what I should or should not say.
I want to play it off and nonchalantly say,
“Oh, it’s not that bad. I’m ok.”
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,
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.
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...
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