The Movement

I’ve lost my passion for the movement.
I care about people dying and their families but the rest of it,
the hashtags, the protests, the social media statuses,
the “black-outs”, the retaliation, the angry open letters, the tweets,
the town halls and the department of justice reports.
I’m over it.

Thank for noticing now
and showing of up for the conversation but there’s only so much talking I can listen to. My story has been written this way since 1982.
Detroit West side, Joy Road and Wyoming, 6 Mile and Grandville, Schoolcraft and Prevost
has been catching bodies to oppression and subjugation.
It’s been us, it’s been them, it’s been 5-0. It’s nothing new.

We’ve been avoiding Dearborn, Livonia, Howell, Brighton, Birmingham, all of the Heights and pretty much all of Macomb County most of our lives.
We’ve been surviving.
Ya’ll talking bout change but nothing has but we still surviving.
We still getting followed in Farmington Hills.
We still pulled over in Livonia and still driving around Dearborn for fear of outstanding warrants because even when we don’t die
we are taxed like we got it
because they know we don’t
so we’re jailed like delinquents for petty crimes
that many can call lawyers to handle
but they know we won’t.

We go thru systems that tarnish our names.
We’re left with city, county and state fees to bury our credibility.
Then it’s new niggas in the suburbs who have the resources to lift the community
but they don’t fuck with us for reasons…. RESPECTABILITY.
Acting brand new like they bout the community.
No you about brunches with Dan Gilbert and Hillary.
I’m not knocking your hustle everybody eat,
but hear what I said EVERY-BODY.

So when you see someone ignorant, hungry and homeless
stop assuming they are lost, lazy and weak.
We are struggling against a system that made sure we were undereducated, underfed and lacking opportunity.
Stop looking down at us with your education privilege,
stop being bougie.

We don’t want your stacks.
We want the hand, the ladder the rope out the barrel,
giving people lessons on walking not crutches is how you give back.
We don’t need the meal, teach the hungry how to fish.
We ain’t looking for pity or sympathy
we want out of the struggle, bitch.

We know how to survive, we know how to eat. Mary, all we really want is to be happy.
So thank you for the reposts, hashtags and tweets
but that’s not a movement that’s your social identity.

Real shit is live,
Real shit is out in the streets.
Real shit is on the block.
Real shit is right now.
Real shit ain’t them or us,
real shit is WE.

I’m not suggesting that you stop posting, please pop off them tweets but make sure when you put it out there that you’re saying what you mean. Be bout it.

Word to Percy.

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