Mommies, daddies, siblings missing
Too many pistol kissing
In place of shooting stars, the bullets are doin the whisking
Long lives are fleeting
Daffy with the darker skin, every season is hunting season
Rarely with a “proper” reason
The systems are hella flawed
From the Nigga’s to the Law’s
Crosses on yo chest, still dyin, where’s yo God
No more hanging from the trees
They falling, dying in streets
Leaving pasts and futures weeping
No more chains, but it’s bout them bars and bars
Bruising when they reaching far
Money, money, money be the cause
Natural is viewed as wrong
And a smile or “sorry” is viewed as soft
Comin through with a marching crew
Fists raised with tattoos, too
From the dreads to the fades to the fros
Shirts written “BLM” for these and those
A statement inside the message
A message because of messes
Messes are racial oppresses
Black bodies walking
Cuz the dead bodies talking
Talking bout the racists
Getting away with all the cases
Doin it in front of camera faces
Still gettin all the pays and the praise
While children losing parents in the nights and the days
These are brutes shooting down the strange fruit
December 13, 2016 at 2:53 am
This is great. Very moving, and very raw.
LikeLiked by 1 person
December 13, 2016 at 5:50 am
Thank you, I was hoping it’d feel that way
LikeLike