Slain.

Let freedom ring, it reigns supreme.
Liberty's bell solely tolls for thee.
Red, white, and blue but only for you.
For me, red is the blood of my brothers and sisters you've murdered.
White, the ticket of privilege that buys you luxuries my melanin can't afford.
And blue? Blue is the police force that engages in brutality.
Its sole criteria for ending a life is colour.
I pray for the day there is no news of injustice.
No headlines about rapists who are freed whilst teachers are wrongfully killed.
Mama, when can we stop digging graves?
Help me understand when we stop being slaves.
Will we ever be saved?

There seems to be no end in sight to this crusade.

Is it reckless, are the riots in vain?

All that ever changes are the names of the innocents slain.

Saartjie.

Saartjie, Saartjie, Baartman,
her name warrants repetition.
She was a Nubian queen who
was exploited without permission.

They dubbed her the "Hottentot Venus,"
as though she were a freak,
stripped her of her dignity,
then marvelled at her physique.

This African woman is the reason
why black females are still fetishized.
She had no say or control
over the shape or size of her thighs.

My spirit weeps for Saartjie,
paraded throughout Europe, like some kind of clown,
and whenever I think of injustice,
her name is the first to come to mind.