Sunday, August 8, 2021
Photo of a wall with a sunset shining on it.
Photo by Anna Zalevskaya


What should you see
when you look at me?

Is my melanin destiny

Still swinging from a poplar tree?

But what if I’m only half
of a negro

Silly me, I forgot

The color’s the only part you see,

so, no. 

You say white lives matter, too
of course they do

But it still doesn’t justify

All this black and blue

“It’s much better than it used to be”
they say

Then why, 100 years later

Does the blood still drip

From the poplar tree