Why does my skin color make so many people nervous?
Why do I have to worry about wearing a hood?
Why does it matter where I sit?
Shouldn’t I be treated like a human instead of an animal?
Why am I considered a thug?
Why is it dangerous to have an opinion?
Why do I need to be cautious about every breath I take?
Why is equality such a hard thing to gain?
Do I really matter, or am I just target practice?
What if I’m just trying to get home?
What if I don’t mean any harm?
Never once do I get a chance to explain…
but repeatedly I am defined by what I look like.
I am viewed as a threat.
I am executed by a bullet,
but I stand tall, with my fist held high,
screaming BLACK LIVES MATTER….
Who am I?
A Survivor