Black Line Books - Excerpt from “Where’s Your Black?”

To see what I see.

I can’t tell you how to fight,
To burn your own cars or walk out of class, 

For an America that’s not ours. 

I can’t tell you how to fight,
Cursing out our broken system,
Justice for Floyd, 

In their pockets is where it hits them. 

I can't tell you how to fight,
To stop getting them perms yet wearing a front lace,
Your edges are bald, the chemical box gave its terms.

I can’t tell you how to fight, 

Should you call her a bitch?
A female dog or Black Queen, why do you switch? 

I can't tell you how to fight,
Cashing that stimulus check, 

Still behind on those bills, 

No come up, what the heck. 

I can't tell you how to fight,
Should you visit the grave or protest in the streets, 

Tell me what people you save? 

If I don't show up does that mean that I am weak?
To read all the news,

Political collusion being leaked, 

To be aware,

To regurgitate it all,
To sit as if I’m confused,
Is this our great fall?

I can't tell you how to fight . . .