The day she died

She screams -
'Can't you see what your ignorance has done to me'
Or -
Do you just believe,
I - am not worthy 
You see, that I'm black,
But you can't see I'm having a panic attack 
Maybe your hate is shouting - 
'She is on crack'
That has to to be it, right?
You see black, so you panic 
You say - 'She is dramatic'
They tell her - ' you're being erratic'

She begs, she pleads
'What will it take for you - to hear - me'
Does she have to bleach her skin
For you - to see the problem
Or is your heart so rotted
Or have you forgotten?
Prejudice wasn't apart of the job offer
That being a doctor -
Meant you help everybody

She's bleeding everywhere 
Her skin, her hair
Maybe is she's coated in blood,
You'll finally care 
Or does the black overshadow the red
So you have it in your head
That means she deserves to be dead?

She asked for help, but instead
She was told it was all in her head
It took her years to make noise 
Agonising over the same question -
To speak or not to speak 
Her decision - she needed intervention

Harsh and unwelcoming,
The hospital was,
A hostile environment 
Still, she kept her head down and remained silent 
Though she was quiet, the mere act of her presence, they saw as violent
Their minds already made up
Her screams would echo in the silence 
A reminder -
That if you are black you should keep quiet

Her own safety a risk,
A place built to assist, became a death sentence 
She walked in full of hope
And exited deceased

A young black girl, in her twenties
Now a ghost, haunted by her own screams 
She asked for peace
But became one of many disposable black bodies
When a black girl seeks medical assistance 
She becomes another unsuspecting victim
To a system,
A weapon forged against her

From the moment she entered,
Her fate was sealed -
From the very beginning 
It was a competition between her sickness and the living
In the end it was the doctors who ended up winning
Copyright © | Year Posted 2025

Poem

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Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace