Blm Poems - Poems about Blm

246 bullets 10 Cops 1 black man And a lifetime of pain 1 funeral 1 courtroom 12 jurors 1 judge 1 verdict Not guilty 1 claim of self defence This is the world we live in One in which black people choose freedom Which is stolen From us And white people have their skin Which means they will automatically be acquitted This is the world we...

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Empty, that's all she felt She hated the numbness that would blindly attack She did so much for others But she couldn't help herself She carried the weight of being black Where racism would slowly break her back She couldn't even go to a hospital they'd probably throw her out Calling her 'dramatic' Saying she should go somewhere else This...

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No your burdens are not for us to carry We know your game You fake a smile Bat your little eyelashes Pretend you care Then reveal your true motive You want us to fight your battles for you But when we need help On your end all we hear is silence While you sit back and watch...

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His mind was an abyss Of emotions And endless questions Of the world around him He wasn't much of a speaker But he was definitely a thinker His mind was a safe place Where he could speak freely Without being harmed He hated the outside world He was scared if he stepped outside He was afraid the racists might strike So instead he...

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She died in a body she hated Her last memory was watching herself get assassinated How she died isolated Surrounded by a see of white faces Who stood there being witnesses To something that would be talked about across the ages Her blood had painted the pavement The cop stood there admiring his painting She died in a body...

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Not only did they colonise land They colonised history too They decided to make history a blank canvas To start anew By painting over the colour in white paint Hiding the accomplishments of tge black race They say slavery was in the past We need to move on But continously teach us about the holocaust And when a black...

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The scars they don't see Are the ones filled with the most painful memories The ones you don't have to touch for them to hurt Our bodies are permanent scars A reminder of what was once ours Now the use to start wars They made it our prison of skin and bones Condemning us to a life where silence...

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When the music died It turned into police sirens When the music died It was like playing musical statues Without the music And forever stuck in silence When the music died It gave space for the gunshots And the screams that came after it When the music died The soul died too When the music died The world stood...

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Our pleasure is political Our presence anarchy Our smile a rebellion Our hair A revolution Our blood our fire Our blackness A force to be reckoned with Our joy to them is a declaration of war Our resilience an act of political warfare Our resilience a threat to the system of oppression they built They don't like when we take...

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He reflected on the life he had lived Staring out the window watching his kids with his grandkids They were his greatest gifts He also felt this quiet melancholy of putting them in a position To survive In a world filled with racists He hoped they would outlive him He hoped he would end up in a casket...

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A circus act A puppet A clown When you think of these you think of a Performance Or even entertainment You think of Comedy You think of Jokes You think of Laughter So what happens When you become the butt of the joke Where they are not laughing with you But at you Not because you're funny But because of what's being done to you Oh you don't know Well...

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Would it be safer to be born as a white person In a world that worships them What would it take for the world to accept black When we have always been treated as less than What would the world look like if we chose peace Where our hands connect in the name of justice But you don't want...

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Why we stopped explaining racism to you Because even if it Slapped you in the face You'd still claim it doesn't exist So why would we spend our existence Pandering to your ignorance I mean we have better things to do like ending racism The same racism you claim doesn't exist Even though you've had the privilege Of never experiencing it Ain't that ironic Telling...

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If our hair was on trial And it was called to testify And tell the truth Of what the world put it through It tells the stories Of all the hairstyles That it was It starts with when it was cornrows It takes the jury back to the fields Where the blistering heat Sucked the life out of it But it tells us a secret Kept hidden...

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The after What happens after? When what was loud is now silent Where a place once filled with cameras go unnoticed What once made history is now forgotten Later On TV they'll be a recap The story will go They'll manipulate the situation Bonus if its told by a republican They'll say The police were peaceful, we'll be labelled as criminals I guess it's...

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