I feel for my brothers and sisters whose skin is darker than mine.
The ones who have fear in their hearts because of people with skin like mine;
The ones whose parents versed them on what to say so they will come home at night.
My parents told me not to talk to strangers, and if I was in danger, the police would be a welcome sight.
What kind of world do we live in when those sworn to serve and protect
Become the white devils in a uniform who show no compassion or respect?
How many black lives will it take
For us to realize that their death was no mistake?
How many grieving families, newscasts, or protests
Will it take for us to say, “This one has to be the last”?
And for people with skin like mine,
For us, all we need is time
For the news cycle to switch,
And we go back to our normal lives of privilege.
For our brothers and sisters, this safety is not something they will meet,
Because people of colour will continue to be murdered in the street.
Except maybe this time it won’t be recorded on an iPhone,
And the name of that human will be unknown.
We can’t go back to not realizing that the white colour of our skin,
Will help keep us safe in most situations we are in.
When you can go for a walk, bird watch, or even get arrested
Without fear of death or jail, know that your white privilege is being flexed, kid.
Under our skin cloaks, we all bleed the same,
And until we all understand that, we must never forget their names.