Can you truly love a black man
through the blood, sweat, and tears.
While he suffers from ptsd living in this country
where a man is supposed to be free.
Unless he is a black man aka a commodity
to Be bought and sold on the block
like the rocks that he sells
and ends life jailed away
from the woman who prayed
this day would never come.
She promised not to get caught up with a thug.
Knew it would leave her alone.
A wife.
No husband.
A grandmother.
No grandfather.
When is enough the end?
The devil doesn’t have office hours.
He works around the clock seeking whom he can devour.
Most times it’s him.
The no name.
No face.
Black man in America.
BLACK&GIFTED 
Inspired to be better! Thank you.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’ll borrow Laryn Hill’s phrase. Poetry (music) is supposed to inspire.
LikeLike