Trayvon Martin and Mike Brown

I spoke into the mic but they couldn’t hear me

He bled his own blood but they couldn’t see that

He fears for his life but it only gets sucked up by the thoughts and emotions and words

of those more important.

Or so they think.

Deep down inside of them there hides sympathy

for that boy who was shot down,

or that girl who was beat down

by her own.

They don’t see us and we see them

and they see us at the wrong times

when it’s too late to realize and too late to sympathize our situation

too late to save the life of the boy who could’ve been my brother.

I question what my world has come to in the midst of all this

hatred on top of fear on top of worry.

Souls on top of souls.

Like MLK said, “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere”

So why does this injustice get covered over like a dead body?

Fighting fire with fire it only seems to get us nowhere.

But fighting with my eyes open I see that

under the hatred and fear and worry

there is a possibility

that my brothers don’t have to live and die in silence.

I scream into the mic so that they can hear me

and they hear me and my brother’s hope and longing

for closure

and a day when I can leave the house

and love my Earth.

* * *

Mari Chiles is a 15-year-old sophomore from Atlanta. An aspiring writer, she frequently writes reviews, recipes and poetry for MyBrownBaby.

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