Silence, something about silence makes me sick
Because a vocal minority
Talk, Talk, Talk about the fate of minorities
Who never asked for them to make being their saviour a priority
Yet they battle on the terminology, two sides of a toxic dichotomy
That result in words without action, any taken executed improperly
And decades of debated philosophies, year upon year is stopping me
From feeling safe from those who say to protect and serve gives them superiority
Over my actions, temperament, and personality,
I guess that’s what happens when the license to kill becomes as easy to obtain as any other commodity
Still atoning for the primal sin,
Of having a different colour of skin,
Where its hard to get loans because you’re on the wrong side of the lines that were red,
And leaving for a jog from your home, can turn to running for your life instead,
When your back is a threat, according to those wearing the bullet proof vests.
It's easy to sleep on a world hoping to write you off as resisting a rest.
And now people awake from years of inaction,
To bring justice to actors with a passion, for trashing the people they’re passing,
And carved from the ashes of the times when slavery was sanctioned,
Were the badges that were passed to the anti-civil rights assassins,
Who followed the fashion,
Unionized to bring you the thin blue line faction,
“Protect only your peers in blue, and serve the powers that be.
Don’t worry, you’re new, but from years in our system you’ll see,
It’s all of them against you, and that’s how it always will be.
And if the heel of our boots, don’t paint the scene of the scheme,
Take a page from their book, and switch to taking a knee.
This article is part of the Black History Month issue, in collaboration with the Western Black Students' Association and Interrobang, Fanshawe College's student newspaper. Read the full issue online now and find it on stands Monday.