When you prepare for work, do you label your victims?
Do you write names on your bullets?
Are you specific or do you just label them,
"Another black animal"?
Mr Police,
My voice has been stolen by the intimidation of your face.
I grew up loving the colour blue,
Now the thought of it fills me with dread.
But I'm supposed to be the one with the threatening colour.
Everything in my hand looks to you like a weapon.
My brush, my pen, my ID
Or let's just say my identity.
Yet, you're the one whose weapon actually fires.
But oh, sorry, I'm sure it was self defense.
Do you enjoy the splash of red on black?
Is that why you create more holes in us than there are hair on your head?
Are you trying to test out the strength of your guns
And have resorted to using us as target practice?
When I sleep,
I dream of a world of peace and tranquility,
I exist in a plane where my very origin isn't a reason for my demise.
But then I open my eyes
And the blue sky and white clouds remind me exactly why that's a dream.
Amy's Artistry
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