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The Cycle Continues - Sneak Peak from "This is 2020: a poetry collection"

Sneak peak from "This is 2020: a poetry collection" - available for sale on,, Barnes & Noble: Check it out HERE

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The Cycle Continues

The year is 1919.

Tensions are high already.

The country angry and ready.

A young man dives into the lake

enjoying an afternoon break

when he entered an area

soon to cause hysteria.

How was he to know

they would drown him with a blow?

He received no justice.

They tell the nation "trust us."

Followed by fires and fights

as the people fought for their rights

because of a rock

thrown without a talk

and a man who died

while his mother cried.

Only because he was black

he was attacked.

The year is 1963.

A man stands up, his eyes agleam.

"I have a dream,"

He says out loud.

Around him, an emotional crowd

Not knowing that it would be repeated.

Never wanting defeated.

For years to come

it would beat like a drum.

Those four little words

united the herds

and people, convinced

the president evinced

to create equality mass

that never quite came to pass.

But did bring a hope

that would continue to scope

from father to child

even when he was profiled.

The year is 1968.

The man who spoke inspiration

that tried to unify a nation

and spent his life fighting

opening his heart and inviting

the justice and equality

while innocent of polity

for a people that were still segregated

and unfairly hated.

Yes, that man

was shot by a clansman.


The pain as he bled

was felt around the nation,

People thrust out of their stagnation.

Their anger unfurled

as the hope left the world.

The cities erupted in pain

to come, again and again.

The year is 1992.

A man drives down the road

lights behind him glowed.

Blue and red

on the wet tire tread.

Four men against one

and the four had the guns.

They beat him bloody

and laughed with their buddies

not noticing the camera

filming their stamina.

There was no reprise

as he tried to rise.

The men were acquitted

showing they were permitted

to beat a man who is black

and for no more reason than that.

For the badge they wear

allowed them to be unfair.

The year is 2012.

He didn't have a gun

and he didn't know to run.

He pulled his hood down tight

not thinking it would cause a fight.

But a man who profiled without thought

saw black skin and though he caught

a criminal; not a boy

who wasn't out to destroy.

The man pulled out a pistol

without even a dismissal

of a kid who went for snacks

never thinking to watch his back

or that he would be shot dead

and lay on the ground as he bled.

False justice served by a man

who didn't think before he began.

he was given the power of lead

and used it because of the fear in his head.

The year is now.

He was choked to death

couldn't catch his breath.

She was asleep in her bed

when they shot her dead.

Those are only just a few

killed because of a view.

This is every year.

Fear for those you hold dear.

Death by those who one should trust

has grown from past disgust.

Racial profiling is nothing new.

When will everyone get a clue?

We need to yell

and not be quelled.

Rise up together.

March wherever.

It's time.

We're primed.

We will not be stopped

until the racism is dropped.

I wrote this poem - in the summer of 2020 when again we see this cycle continuing. We have been here before. We have had the same arguments over and over and over with the same side of people that are convinced that racism is no longer an issue or blind to the evolution of systematic racisms. The same racism that I see in my city and beyond; in the public (education, housing, services, and even transport) systems. And nothing has changed. We will be in the same moment, having the same conversations, and standing together in the same marches... two years from now unless everyone recognizes these issues and work together to speak and fight against the injustices that we see every day - socially, in person, in culture and entertainment and our lives. Be an ally. Truly. For the future of the human race.

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