BLM Let's Be Poetic


✊🏾#BLM #SayHerName #EndRapeCulture

you were meant to care
that’s why I’m here 
this wasn’t my first choice for a bed 
I would be anywhere else in the world 
but I’m here with you instead 

a condition 
I happen to live with 
that’s taken away a lot of bliss*

 *but that’s another story

there’s no way 
I would choose your halls 
empty and cold 
over the warmth of my home 
a solace, my Rome

but that day, as you came to roam 
rolling your eyes at my demise
as tears welled up in my eyes
being carried by people who hated you
who’d rather see you die
 than conversate with you 

flinging items my way 
is this a hospital -  
or am I actually in jail?
have I actually been arraigned¿ 
did I perform a crime? 
a choice that wasn’t mine¿

 [ His only crime was that he was born black. ] 

melanated from birth 
west african with a caribbean hook 

I thought I was going crazy 
these people, they betrayed me 
Duty of care? none 
a negligent flair for discrimination 
a poetic display of their irritation 
as their bodies sashayed across the ward 
attending to everyone else
but me. 

 I must be wrong 
this cannot be prejudice
this cannot be racism 
there is no way in hell 
this is what I am witnessing 

I text my sister - Doctor of the fam 
“Niksy, this is what’s happening - they’re just tired right?” 
That’s why they won’t hold my hand?
That’s why they won’t speak to me like I'm a human being? 
That’s why I’m invisible and if anything treated like the ward’s annoying flea?
That’s why there’s no sympathy? 
after all, it’s a ‘black disease’ 
so why try to empathize with me
“It’s all in my head right?”

all I can say is,
they’re totally wrong 
this makes them bad doctors 
they’re singing an awful song - an odd tune 
but nonetheless somewhat ‘familiar.’ 

Lord, I wish this was a flu... 
I wish I had nothing to do with you.

the irony is plain 
and till this day 
it’s still difficult for me to claim 
that their irritation had a face 
Racism - written as an impossible stain. 

By Tolz 👑

My thoughts are best expressed by writing.
So that's what I do - I write.

It's how I make sense of it all.
My prayer is that someone somewhere is blessed or is able to relate to what I write.

"Having gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, let us use them..." ~ Romans 12:6

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