Social Justice Poetry

Systemic Depression | A Social Justice Poem by Tana Cambrelen

They killed my ancestors for being black.
They killed my ancestors for slavery.
They killed my ancestors for speaking back.
They killed my ancestors for trying to be free.
Yet they called us the problem.
I hope they don’t kill me.

They killed my grandparents over protests.
They killed my grandparents because they wanted equal rights.
They killed my grandparents because they wanted the same restrooms.
They killed my grandparents because they put up a fight.
Yet we’re a problem.
I hope they don’t kill me.

They killed my daddy over cigarettes.
They killed my brother over skittles and iced tea.
They killed my sister for sleeping on the sofa.
They killed my uncle for CDs.
They killed my aunt for “driving recklessly.”

They’re still calling us the problem.
They’ve stripped me of my family.
If I call them the problem,
they will probably kill me.
I’ll be another hashtag on Twitter.
My sister will lose a sister,
while my murderer walks free
as I’m buried six feet under
simply for being me.

Visit Tana at http://tcwritings.com.


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