Gun Shots X Bullets


My mother prays for more black dead boys than she does for her own
When a Somali mother is missing from home
It is safe to assume that she in mourning elsewhere
I never ask why mother is dressed in black every other day
At eleven years old, I watched him enter soil
They told me he was safe,
They told me that he was headed to a better place
Knowing they meant heaven,
I still foreshadow his fate
heaven is not being abandoned in a graveyard tomb
Left to rot
heaven is not a key we should hold onto,
when our brothers and sisters are dying in world they called freedom
A world where they quotes police officers "serve and protect"
They forget to tell mother,
We didn't get the privilege of being protected
Only served heartache and trauma
because in a world where rules have been primarily set
My mother did not escape her beautiful motherland from fear
Only to enter her second battle field

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems


Share This Poem