Melanin stains the flesh of the oppressed like blood-soaked shirts from soaring whips that part cells upon backs of brown colored men


Broken bones swing from limbs of oaks serenading the roar of hatred like clashing symbols merged by a warm breeze


Wind chimes in the smell of decaying hopes from men stolen from their mother’s awaiting embrace


Fathers comb through streets of nappy degradation for sons lost in the tightness of fates womb


Tears roll down cheeks of men marginalized by false superiority built upon creations of muted complexions


Creations that sense God’s withholding of a key pigmentation ingredient, that is soiled into our flesh, is God's bestowment of dominion over all that possess it


And when the oppressed begin to taste freedom


Hurled bombs from white hands fell upon doors of barricaded churches


Tied ankles of torn temples gallop through muddy streets


Various forms of systemic barricades constructed and protected by laws in foreign land


Black knees that kneel in protest spark outrage while white kneeling knees that silence the cries of depleting life are ignored


Debates flourish as justification flutters from tightened lips speaking words to prove why a man deserves death


And yes, the reward of sin is death, but God, you gave us life


And it is by your sacrifice that we find why he deserves to live


For we all have fallen short


If we get what we deserve in our shortness none of us should live very long


*Pause...



The head of a black boy, in pursuit of home, covered by a simple hoodie was chased and killed by a man chasing the threat of his pigmentation


Melanin,


The sin of all mankind for being drenched upon the skin of some of mankind


The more that God gave to us was not asked for by us


So why must we suffer for His gift


Why must we fight your hatred when the crime of complexion was not committed by us


However, because we are in possession of it your eyes lay guilt upon us


Our innocence is saturated in Gods divine inability to do no wrong


There we find immunity


Yet still we must suffer persecution


*Pause...



We escaped binding shackles


Yet,


Still remain bound to perceptions of men that stand proudly on flooded bloody streets


If it means they can watch another son of ours drown by the very waters they released


WE OBJECT!


And we march through the very streets our brothers lay upon


Each step splattering their blood over the makeup of men until it washes away their sins


We gather with signs that read snippets from hearts of weary children that only desire to feel safe in a world that says they don’t feel safe... with them.. feeling safe


*Pause...



I want to be able to make mistakes


Like my brothers of varied privilege


And know that the same mistake will get the same result for us both


I want to get pulled over as a 38 year old man and not have to gather every single item I’m to have before the police officer reaches my window


So I don’t have to reach or move in a way that alarms him or her


*Pause...



I want my son to make it home


I want my son to make it home


I want my son to make it home


WE WANT OUR SONS TO MAKE IT HOME


And the thought that he may not because the color of his skin puts you at a greater level of uneasy... is the crime


No, this is not the time to lecture me about my brother when you can only see a surfaced level of crime he has committed against me


There are roots that go further into the depths of our short history than the stats you found can show


It’s the crack you introduced to our mothers and fathers with no aid as it ravaged our communities


It’s redlining to keep us in a state of want and poverty in the areas you wanted us to have


That is until you want them back and blatant unrepentant gentrification uproots and migrates the herd to a new area of lack


It’s overcrowded schools with underpaid teachers in impoverished neighborhoods that see little growth


It's funded jails that make profit off its residence


And where there is profit to reap there must be lives of men for you to sow


And if you must sow a life it mustn’t be your sons or your fathers that you sacrifice for gain

It was ours….It is ours


It’s the higher jail sentences you gave men to keep them away from their families


It’s the son’s, your greed left fatherless, that grew up to leave their sons as well


And it was the basterdized boys that found solace in drug ravaged ghettos


Its decades of devaluing a race and inadvertently teaching them how to devalue one another

It’s calculating years of breathing lies into the ears of our daughters


Telling them their hair, their shape, their personalities are not desirable by the world until you adopt a level of appropriation that makes it so


It’s showing our sons that the only roles they play are gangsters and criminals and thugs


Racism


Has a generational lingering that your stats on black on black crime will not show


*Pause....



So, if it is justice you seek


To God you must relay your accusations


For it was He who decided to wrap us in this skin


Yet it is you that have decided to wrap yourself in hate


Now it is us that have decided to wrap ourselves in self-love


We are not responsible for the hate your lineage has shown


We are merely the creation


I’ve yielded my heart to the guiltless mercy of God


The defense rests

God's Crime

by Jeremy C Watson

what a year 2020 has been thus far. we are six months into the year and we've already seen and experienced what seems like a roller-coaster of turmoil and devastation. The year of the pandemic...The Year of the Quarantine...The year of Ahmaud Arbery...The Year of Breonna Taylor...the year of George Floyd...the Year of global protest...with six more months to go! 

As a black man, with two black sons, it is easy...and likely wise, to be concerned about how the world perceives us. After the death of George Floyd, I was inspired to write this poem which looks at the why we are blamed for being the color that we are...when not a single one of us had authority or choice of which we would be. 

So why hate us? Why blame us when our makeup was not by us. It was God. So if there is to be blame...blame the Creator and not his creation. 

God made man in his image...in his beautifully perfect image. Without flaw...without blemish did he make all of mankind...we hate what we should celebrate...we despise what we should adore...we reject what we should embrace...each other...in our rainbow of complexions. 

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