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Kai Wells, 12 (Maryland)


God created us hoping we would be equal
Not knowing that some would be treated differently
You turn on the news and someone was killed... AGAIN
Police offering us to God as if we are chocolate
Our voices shut down before they can be heard
Say their names
They all matter
Black Lives Matter
Trayvon Martin
Tamir Rice
George Floyd
Phillip White
Michael Brown
Sandra Bland
Eric Garner
Mya Hall
Breonna Taylor
All people who died
All of them had families who cared
Some had kids
Some had siblings
All expecting their loved one to come home
Only to find they were murdered
Imagine the tears
Imagine the heartbreak
Can you imagine that
Or are you too busy trying to keep America safe from “threats”
Trying to keep them safe from black people
Because when do kids like me go from cute and precious
To dangerous and a threat to their community

Like MLK I have a dream
A dream that sometimes feels like an unknown reality
A dream that feels fake
I dream for black men and women to walk freely
Without the fear that their lives are in danger
No one should have to feel that they are constantly being judged
No one should have to feel that they have to watch their back every living moment
No mother should feel that feeling
You know that feeling
When you feel that something isn't right
They shouldn’t have to feel that but they do and it’s ten times worse
They shouldn’t have to worry if they send their child out to play
They shouldn’t have to worry if their husband is late from work
They shouldn’t have to worry that their loved one might get killed
Imagine that pain
Imagine that worry
It’s real
Every mother of a young black child has felt it
Every child should be able to walk down the street not considered a threat
Every child should be able to wear a hoodie if it’s cold outside
Every young boy should be able to play with a toy gun if they choose to
Every young girl should be able to express themselves freely and not be stereotyped as a mad black girl

But you don’t care
You never care
Because all we are to you is
A threat
Lower than
Ever since slavery there has always been that sense of hope
That the next generation would have it better
But deep down they know
It never gets better for us
They are afraid of us
Who is us
We need to stand up
Rise up
Stand tall
Show them that enough is enough
I dream that black mothers can one day let their child outside knowing they will be safe
But for now
We show them that enough is enough
We show them that they can never tear us down
Because we are black
We are black on black on black
And we will fight until this injustice is brought to a stop

Dear Moma

I am a human
I live in this country
I call home... ish
I may look different
I may have different hair
I may have different ancestry
I may not look like the people on tv
unless they were from the news stories
I may not look like my friends
But I am human
And every day I leave home my moma says she loves me

I think it’s just a saying
But it’s true
For my moma she loves me
She loves my heart and soul
Even though people would kill
Just to kill it
I didn’t know what this love meant
Until I heard the stories
For people who look like me are illegal
For I am out of my own control
For I can, no, will be called an n-

But I don’t care I block them out
Cause there will be that day
When that red and blue comes
hand on that protection shield
Protection from what, from me
That protection is the same thing that sent so many
to be with many more
But I will come home tonight I promise
Time stops buts speeds up at the same time
The pain, as I slowly drown in a red storm
Then light... the light
P.S. I love you too, Moma

Bum Bum Bum Bum Bum Bum

The sound of the music goes bum bum bum
The beat keeping me on this planet goes bum bum bum bum
Although people have the desire to end it mid-sentence
But all these beats join the crowd in the sky

But the beat of my soul goes on
Even when people want me torn into shreds
For being the illegal color that I am in this one-sided world
It keeps bum bum bumming

The soul lives on
And the beat keeps going
Bum bum bum bum bum bum

These poems were sent to us as part of our Classroom Submissions (for teachers only) Program. If you are a teacher of children 13 and younger and would like to submit your students' work to Stone Soup, please do so via our Submittable.

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