A Poem: Peace

When I close my eyes and think of peace, I see you radiating it so kindly.

Guns. Violence. Slander. Murder.

When I think of peace, I think of empathy, and it’s something that moves me.

Parkland. Great Mills. Vegas. Orlando.

When I think of peace, one moment becomes an eternity.

Travon Martin. Stephon Clark. Eric Garner. Tamir Rice.

When I think of peace, I can’t help but to become angry because there’s so much brutality and no mercy.

LA. Chicago. Charleston. New York.

When I think of peace, I can’t help but to have mercy. When will we change? When will we love? When will we ever place empathy over apathy? When will we love sons more than guns? When will daughters be our heart instead of shot in the dark? When can we turn the tables and when can peace stop being a fable? There are good times and bad times, but I think it’s time that we stop this mess and look within our chest and ask “is it worth it”? When the chamber of your pistol is pointed at an innocent black man or when you shoot up a school like Parkland, know that there is justice. Is it worth it? I’m tired of turning on the news and seeing another person shot and another presidential scandal. I’m tired of seeing recklessness take the place of hopefulness. Well, I call that hopelessness.

Maybe I can bite the bullet and do something about it. Maybe you can bite the bullet and do something about. Maybe we can cast a ballot that could benefit all instead of having a million dollar lawsuit with a porn star. I’m tired. I’m sick. I want peace. I want justice. I miss simplicity. Where there is no justice, there is no peace. Why do you so endlessly blame this on Adam and Eve? Stop pushing the blame to someone else and take responsibility. It’s like saying it’s Cinderella’s fault for the way she was treated: brutally and unjustly. Take responsibility.

There was a bomber caught in Austin who targeted black and latinx. He was white and labeled mentally ill. There was a shooter in Vegas. He was labeled mentally ill. There was a Middle Eastern man in Subway. Well, he’s labeled a terrorist. There’s a black man approaching you for help. Well, he’s labeled as a thug. When will this stop and when can we find the love? When can we find peace and say enough is enough?

I carry a weight on my chest to let love be the best representation of being human. Where is God in all of this? Where is justice? Am I justice? Are you justice? Can we ever come to a place of oneness? Maybe this poem means something to you. Maybe it’s just another political statement that you read. Maybe it’s another thing to keep your mind numb. Maybe it’s a call to say “love covers a multitude of sin”. I know people have mixed feelings but when will all of the madness stop and when will peace begin?

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