Protest Poem: Final Words from Lost Mothers
by Kenaisia Sherrod Could it be, perhaps, if I wasn’t me, if this skin wasn’t dark, would you allow me to breathe? Would I have a chance to open my eyes again, do what I’m used to, and leave not with just two, but the "new three”? I can feel the simmering of my blood turn into a rapid boil In your kind, I’ve placed my trust To nurture the seed in the fertile soil But you misled us, you misled the trust, you took my all from me and me from my all And my husband had to watch this process of my breathing drastically fall Am I just another black woman y’all hate Please tell me this isn’t what it seems to be, this isn’t my fate Stop telling our families you’re sorry for their lost because you prematurely labeled this case as “too late” Fire in my belly, my feet are swelling, tell me you could fix this, I know you can save me Instead of watching me die, as I hear the cries of my newborn baby The most beautiful noise I’ve ever heard, to hear that noise, I deserve And your comfortability in taking such happiness from me is what makes it worse When I was younger, I wanted to be just like you, do what you do, tell patients what you knew But if this is it, I don’t want it, I don’t want to be you To think of the black mothers you let die this way, this place is haunted, I don’t want it! All the black babies you dropped on their heads Tell their parents what you want and declared them dead because of a mistake you made instead And it’s the same thing every time A black mother laying in this bed, both her, her family and her newborn baby crying Difference is, the baby’s hurting, daddy’s terrified cause his baby and his lover’s dying I’m screaming out help me and you’re busy trying to tell me to shut up, that I’m so wrong “You don’t know what you’re talking about, you’re confused” But I knew I felt these pains all along! Belittling me because the black woman tries to appear so strong We put on this act because this world made us feel as though we don’t belong Yet all of our hearts are the same instruments, even if they don’t play the same song All I ask, give my baby and I the chance, in unison to breathe To see what other families get to see, to be Don’t allow your misdirected hatred take everything from me Kenaisia is a Senior. She wrote this poem for Ms. Barbour's Poetry Today Elective Course.
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About Epiphany
Epiphany Literary Magazine is a safe space for students at Franklin High School to share their creativity. Archives '16-'20
June 2020
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