“I Am Weighed Down By Anguish…”

gone too soon

I weighed myself today,
and I’ve gained so many pounds.
The weight is not from calories.
It’s not from Almond Joys or Mounds.

I am weighed down by anguish,
at the loss of so many men,
And Black though they were,
I had no idea that was a sin.

My doctor chastised me,
over all the weight I’ve gained.
He doesn’t know of all the ghosts,
and that to them, yes I am chained.

Trayvon, you’re not forgotten,
and Skittles I won’t touch.
I still put my hoodie on
but I don’t go out much.

When I see a giant of a man,
standing on a New York Street,
I see Eric Garner,
he’s breathing and on his feet.

In another corner of my mind,
Michael Brown will never leave.
I can’t forget him lying there,
and for his senseless death, I grieve.

John Crawford, you are here,
You stand in the light to show,
the gun was just a toy,
but into a casket, there you go.

Oh Tamir, Tamir, little child,
you played in Autumn’s park.
And when play time was over,
another gun had found its mark.

You’re on the scale with me now,
you cute, little twelve year old.
Come take a walk with me.
Your hand in mine, I hold.

I don’t know if there’s an afterlife.
But I do know that you’re here,
adding weight upon my scale,
and of this weight, I have no fear!

Written by
Shelby I. Courtland
©2014 Shelby I. Courtland

For so many days, I have shed so many tears and still they come. This one is not about rhyming or about ‘getting it right’ because this is all so very wrong. This one is about how I feel when I think of the senselessness of these murders and of the fact that there was no punishment nor will there be any punishment for those who murdered them. I can’t even wrap my head around that.

And I’ve just read that MSNBC’s lackey, Al Sharpton, is organizing yet another ‘march on Washington’. How many will this one make? Anybody bothering to count anymore? What’s the point? We’ve been marching for how long now and what’s changed? Oh, right! The names, that’s all! Shall we build a ‘wall’ and put on it the names of all the dead Black men and dead Black children and dead Black women that have been murdered by cops that kill with impunity and shall we also just cut out that grand jury nonsense? For what else is it? Another ‘dog and pony’ show while the body count continues to pile up? Let us pray and let us march. It has worked SO well thus far. Shall we give it yet another go? Onward ‘christian’ soldiers!

“My Soul Cries Out For Justice!”

stand your ground

Did you not gun me down and take my rights away?
When you ‘stand your ground’ and kill me, there’s nothing I can say.

I’m dead and still being tried, the burden is on me.
While I’m lying in a casket because I bought some tea.

Your legal team destroyed my name and said I was the thug.
Though I’m the one who’s dead and it’s you who pulled the plug.

I knew I’d be found guilty, it started at my birth.
There was never any doubt. I knew I had no worth.

I wore a target on my chest the minute I was born.
When you followed me that night, your eyes were full of scorn.

I stood no chance that rainy night against a gun and hate.
As I walked towards my destiny, I walked towards my fate.

My family, those who loved me, awaited me in vain.
Not knowing I lay dying out in the pouring rain.

So, you get to tell your side, and silenced me with death.
While you claimed I did you wrong, interfered with your good health.

My soul cries out for justice and to let the truth be known.
But I lie here in my casket, so cold and all alone.

I was seventeen years old, what crime did I commit?
I was born into a world where I never did quite fit.

Written by,

Shelby I. Courtland
© 2013 Shelby I. Courtland

I am not about to stop posting about this tragic taking of a young life because, lest we forget……