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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