How dare you have the audacity,
to tell me,
that I can’t be mad at this country,
for all the things that it’s done to me!
Locked me in a cell for 22 years,
knowing that I’m innocent,
but you refuse to give me any justice,
How can I be proud to be an American?
Why should I love America?
When America clearly doesn’t love me back!
It put shackles on my ankles,
and whips across my back
Even when my hands is up,
I still get shot,or a cops knee on my neck
Seems to me,
that Martin Luther King’s dream,
has been nothing but a nightmare for me
Instead of marching and demanding land to build our own nation,
Black people in the civil rights movement,
was begging for jobs back on the slave plantation’s
400 years later,
And what have we got?
No love or respect,
Just debt and gun shots
White supremist attacked the Capitol,
only one person got shot
If it had been Black Lives Matter,
dead bodies would have filled the block
Don’t tell me that this country isn’t racist,
the facts speaks for themselves
My only question right now
Is how many white people cares?
I wrote this poem to voice my opposition to those that think I should shut up and stop complaining and that i should be proud to be an American. I also wanted to know how many white people out there actually Care’s about the plight of black people in this country.After witnessing the assault on the Capitol , and seeing no real resistance from authorities to the white mob And then thinking about how Black Lives Matters, peaceful protesters were treated so violently I became convinced that America doesn’t give a damn about Black people in this country…