Hunted

The blood of his ancestors flow through his veins.

Despised for his existence, he struggles to stay

safe and alive.

Peering through key holes like a criminal, he takes

the role of the night watch just to ensure that his

family is safe.

 

Scared; he walks briskly through the busy street

wearing the scars of his dead brothers and

sisters- with pain etched on his face.

Eyes darting everywhere, thoughts in disarray as

layers of fear moisten his dark skin.

He is haunted by the blaring police car siren and

afraid of  negrophobic stalkers in blue costumes

roaming to slay.

 

The hunter chases with a gun, baton, handcuffs

and a taser.

Stalks by day and hunts with a flash light after

dark with wits sharp like polished hunger, thoughts

solely on the kill- camouflaged with quilt-

marinated words like “self defense” tattooed

on his mind.

 

The hunting party rolls like a pack of wolves

proceeding as stealthy as a cat- with each

calculated step.

Raising tension, brewing suspicion as the

hunted cowers in fear, panics and lets his

guard down.

Armored with a revolutionary, undefiable

spirit from his ancestors, whispers from

the Harlem  Renaissance echo through the

mind of the hunted one as his instincts flare

up with an eloquent defense.

Shouts ring out and he panics- aggressive

tendencies are ironies in wait.

Bullets travel faster than him- plunging

deep into his skin, spilling his blood and

destroying vital organs.

Throes replace desire as the curtain of life is

dropped.

A serenade of agony proliferates, his brothers

and sisters shudder and scream, “it’s too much”.

 

Waves of despair sweep across the city, another

black man has been killed – just another

statistic, another hashtag.

Riots illuminate the night sky, screams for

justice follow simultaneously.

A cloud of prayer amidst anger suffices a

greater need and dream that one day the

hunter will lose his desire to hunt and give

in to the moon’s humanity and the sun’s

representation of freedom and equality

as one race.

 

©FloetryC 2016

hunted

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Author: AfroetryC

I am an African woman and a mother to a precious little angel. I love to use the term "Afro-floetic Queen" mostly to describe my poetry and my roots. I love poetry...art, soul music and inspirational bits of knowledge to offer advice and counseling to those who need it. I can be very witty, straight forward but fun. Ha. ha... A colorful perception of the world - expressed in my poetry. I want to inspire people with my Poetry...give them hope, while also advising them. Life is a learning process and i am happy when one of my pieces directly affects or inspires one of my readers. Let's take a detour around experience, and let me fill your minds with sweet poetic juices.... Note: Just changed my user name from FloetryC to AfroetryC because the latter is more personal and describes my Spoken Word Poetry better.

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