For All 1,164
Wanted dead or alive
No one told us that being black meant being dangerous
Or that killing us would end up being contagious
My color appears to be the target for your gunshot
My bad, I meant gunshots
But congrats you hit the spot
Advice given? Never call the cops...
Our skin? It’s a weapon you see.
Not that we wanted it to be
But somehow, we still end up dead in the streets
The crime of being black
The crime of just being me in this white society
Mental illnesses start to become a variety
You know, PTSD? Anxiety?
Targeted by the same people meant to protect me
Blood splattered
Dreams shattered
By ones who cry out “All Lives Matter”
Bullsh*t
Not when I’m being force fed a bullet
Some say that wounds heal with time but
Here we are still fighting for rights as if it were 1969
Crimes like this no longer reach the headlines
Kids like Tamir Rice, 12, won’t ever be able to shine
Stephanie Washington, 22
Shot, unarmed, thank you
Or how about Michael Elam
Gunned down at 17
“Had a gun and ready to fire”,
Or so it seemed
We just want to be able to breathe
To be alive with no worries of another surprise
We don’t wanna just survive
We don’t wanna just get by
We wanna thrive
Killing teens, killing dreams
When we say we want to make it big
This isn’t what we mean
But it appears that dead bodies become more important than living ones
All 1,164 of them
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