By Ronitha Tedla
They say I have liberty,
but do I really?
They say I can walk down the streets without people staring,
but can I really?
They say that I don’t have to worry about people being afraid of me because of my color,
but is that really true?
They say that everyone is created equal,
but does everyone believe that too?
They say I’m unique, special, and charming,
yet people call me ugly, unworthy, and a fool.
I’m tired.
I’m tired.
I’m tired of being discriminated against.
I’m tired of people lying to us,
Black people,
telling us that we have liberty,
because in reality,
we don’t.
I say that I have to worry about my children going to school.
“Oh gosh there aren’t many black people there. Should we switch schools?”
I say that I’m sick of the stereotypes,
that I’m good at basketball, a robber, or a scary man.
I say that segregation still exists,
no matter the quirky quotes saying that we’re all equal.
I say that
people still judge me by my looks.
“Oh look at his braids. Boy — that is so not cute.”
Even when I search “unprofessional hairstyles,” on google,
it shows me pictures of my natural looks.
Will there be a day
when can I sleep peacefully?
Will there be a day
when all people will treat me equally?
Will there be a day
when Martin Luther’s speech is truly heard?
My questions remained unanswered.
My heart is still pleading for change.
Please,
please,
please listen,
to the cries of the black men.
Until full liberty is achieved,
we will not rest.
This is a poem imagined and told in the perspective of a black man.
Disclaimer — *This poem DOES not pertain to problems I have personally experienced.*
