By Keonte R. Turner
We need to talk.
For far too long, you have placed a pacifier in the mouths of the crying babies you deem not your own.
The babies you declared were only three-fifths of a human being
The babies you said couldn’t swim in the same pool
Use the same restrooms
Drink out the same water fountains
Eat in the same diner
America…you have often signed off on these articles with the blood of my ancestors
And you have NEVER accepted your responsibility for what you have created without being passive and nonchalant.
Those babies today?
Have turned into revolutionized children!
Who will not continue to accept the demise of their brothers and sisters slain in the streets
Children who have now spit out that pacifier and in the same breath implore to you Black Lives Matter…
Because you have never made me feel like any part of me ever mattered to you, America
And because of your neglect of me mother America.
Because you let me cry myself to sleep without your nurturing comfort for hundreds and hundreds of years
There goes the Target…annnd the Auto Zone…annnd the Wendy’s…
In the burning buildings I find the empathic warmth I have been yearning for…warmth your heart was too cold to spare
And after those embers die down…
Finally you and all your children will be cold together.
When America is cold along with its bastard children
Maybe we can get the change Mr. Sam Cook sang about, finally.
It’s only taken her 401 years right?
Maybe America will place her children onto her bosom for the first time and finally learn to LOVE all her immigrant children
Because, America has always played favoritism with her children.
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