the man woke before sunrise

hauling objects despised 

by mankind

stinky truck

breaking his back entirely

the man works for his family

each can dumped not mindlessly

but actually 

it’s for his family

He’s unacknowledged by most just like the loads he carries

After its gone from the hands of the holder they are no longer the owner

“give it back to the earth”

“I can’t take it” it replies

to your demise the earth does not accept the growing rise of scrap

but why would we give a 🤬

The sun has risen and the man has collected the objects despised.

Driving to the plot of land

empty of life yet full of things given back to the earth

The job has been done and the refused have been forgotten 

but the man carries the weight of our future

in the back of his truck.

But not too much

you see, what’s mine is mine

personal to me 

what’s mine is mine 

mine to keep

I like sharing but not my hair

you see, that hair is mine it’s personal to me

braids, curls, twists, tight and neat 

not yours for imitation 

it’s mine for me

I can share information 

if you're willing to learn 

but not my dialect or culture 

it’s ours that we earned

years of struggle that my ancestors have endured

just for you to come and claim my culture 

like it’s yours

So please keep what’s mine, mine

personal to me 

clothing, dialect, and culture

with deep rooted history

I got home was fourteen kids have died.

I hate how I felt like another thunder bolt had struck

the very center of my heart that stopped its beating.

I hate how what once was a very quiet mind

is now filled with stress, anxiety, nervousness.

I hate how no action is being taken.

I hate how society has still not been awaken.

Dear world, when will you change?

Are we strange

Are we derange

for wanting nothing more but for you to engage

in the very depths of our anger and despair?

There are always talks of changing the laws,

but it seems like they would rather applause

for their work of making the ever broken world

even more broken than to care for our lives.

Dear world, can we even change?

I am sick of tired of hearing the cries of parents

in fear that those very figures could be of my own.

Dear world, is the day you change

the day that every kid in school dies,

not even with the usage of gun,

but by their own paranoia? 

Dear world, I hope the day you change

is when I’m still alive to witness it all.

innocent have been taken

by malicious acts

what have we come to

stealing the lives of children

they haven’t seen light 

just let this slide, right?

lives have become a game of 

Russian Roulette, right?

will YOU take action

has my safety been taken

dismissing this “thing” again?

YOU listen to ME 

this is the land of the free 

but not land of life?

YOU condoned this, right?

YOU took the innocent lives

YOU have failed us all.

Our home will soon be destroyed

We must be aware.

Once your born know, you are more than women 

Babygirl I tell you now though I wasn’t warned and or told before 

I tell you now life for us ain't no crystal stair 

As you grow into the beautiful women you are know your worth 

You don't come last always put yourself first 

As you discover boys and men don’t ever let them disrespect you 

Pride is what you have so stand your ground 

The bare minimum is not what you deserve 

Cross the line of your turf 

Like drake said you can birth like four of him 

Remember you’re not the problem 

So don’t be so hard on yourself 

Teach your sons to respect girls and women
To not fight physically but rather with words 

Because I don’t play, my daughter will know how to throw a fist 

She'll be ready any day 

Babygirl you are more than women 

So don't let them dim your glow 

You are more than women let them know 

Black and gray replace the air

Trees are all but bare

Wandering ruins

A lost child, a single man

The only ones left

The ender of worlds

Please no war. Do not engage

Don’t end us all, please

She went home and ate nothing

Her mom questioning her actions, 

Arriving at school the next day

With nothing to eat at lunch

Nothing to drink

With a big hoodie that hid all her new insecurities 

Covered her flaws

Happy now?

No.

“You should start wearing makeup, and cover all your acne”

Going to the store, buying makeup

Her mom questioning her actions

Full face of makeup

Happy now?

No. 

Why are you wearing so much makeup?

You told her to

Why are you dressing like that?

You told her to

Why did you dye your hair? 

You told her to.

Her appearance changed, because you told her to.

was all they could see.

Rich and pure, red as roses,

as it oozed from lifeless souls

dotted with bullet holes

onto the pristine floors of tile.

Crimson was 

all they could see

as they ran down the hallway,

hearing nothing but ear-piercing screams

from kids with dreams,

dreams cut short by a bang.

What a cruel world we live in

to have kids gush crimson,

to have their hearts come to a stop

when they have yet to experience life.

What a cruel world we live in,

to have parents see their kids,

crimson on their bodies, on their clothes,

praying that they could turn back time

just once

to say one last 

“I love you.”

What a cruel world we live in indeed,

to lose a generation of children to firearms,

to have parents experience a pain worse than death,

to forever scar survivors 

with the events of that cursed day.

Isn’t there 

anything 

we can do

to stop this?