They say don't write about broken hearts and bones men who build homes with their bare-hands

carrying the world on mountain peaks

fighting to change perspective of permanent words:

thug   inner city  ghetto   you people

The media breaks into our homes

tells us what to think

black means: thief   liar   manipulator   someone to fear

and we cannot change world views without forced entry

because "Hands up, Don't shoot" didn't lead to

any change of black and blue

They still shake when they see me

only those with familiar woes notice

their repugnant stares "You Don't Belong Here"

they affirm it with serrated knife like eyes

I am yet to hear them exercise their truth

Their fear weighs down their tongue

until family and friends build comfort zones

for them to speak candidly behind walls built with hate