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
Raising tension, brewing suspicion as the
hunted cowers in fear, panics and lets his
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
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.