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The scars they left us
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
Way before they ever did
Flicking through his memories
He remembers as a kid
Watching his father being killed
By the very same people who were supposed to protect them
He remembers how that day he had lost his innocence
The day he fully understood what being black meant
They didn't convict his dad's killer
His dad never got justice
He remembers the day of his first protest
For his father's unjust killing
His first chant:
No justice, no peace
He also sadly remembers
The day he tried to rub black of his skin
He thought if he turned white he wouldn't end up in a coffin
For all these years it was a memory he had kept hidden
Even if he had permanent burns that would not leave him
He looked back at the window
Watching his grandkids playing
Looking happy
He hoped that what happened to him wouldn't happen to them
He had always did affirmations with both his kids and grandkids
He had hoped it was enough
For them to see Their self worth
After a while he joined them in the garden
Forgetting about his problem
Wanting to enjoy spending time with his family
That was until
He saw his granddaughters skin
With the same burns as him
This was his biggest fear
This had left him heart broken
He looked in her eyes, long gone Her innocence
It had left earlier than his
She hadn't even reached double digits
This world had stole her innocence
All because of the colour of her skin
This infuriated him
He wished he could take her pain and replace it with her lost innocence
Copyright ©
Layla Riley-Hill
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