Feb 12
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Fearing Sleep

Fearing Sleep

Sawyer Drury 
Under the dim lighting of the lamp, 

slightly flickering beside my bed, I think. 

Deep thoughts, 

keeping me from the long abyssal plane of sleep. 

My forehead wrinkles in confusion, and fear. 

Why did that cop point a gun at that girl’s face? 

Of all types of people, 

a black one too. 

Why, did he pull her over just because she had 

a scared look on her face? 

Did he think she had something? 

Drugs, maybe? 

I bite my cheek to stop myself from

wetting my face with the tears balled up inside me, 

banging on my eyes, trying to break free. 

I won’t let them. 

It’s more terrifying that this isn’t the first time 

something like that had happened. 

Cops, 

abusing their power, 

unleashing it on the colored people. 

Holding them at gun point, just because they didn’t like 

what he said about them. 

Apparently, the safety of the white is 

more important than the safety of the black. 

That people that have possession of a gun 

are more likely to shoot, 

just because they have the power to. 

How so many more black people 

have had their eyes gloss over 

at the hands of people that are supposed

 to help them than the white ever will. 

I stood by, scared of what the cops would do

to me if I spoke up. 

I’m not black, but I feel more for all 

people of other skin tones in America than for all 

the white people that died in history. 

The black and brown should have the same safety as 

all of the white people. 

How would you feel if you went to another country 

because of war, 

and once you got there you still weren’t safe from the 

very people around you. 

It’s a big problem, more than people think. 

Black kids are harrassed, even in schools. 

Security guards are usually more likely to target 

colored students than others. 

For some people, it hurts to say, 

but colored people are less welcome in America. 

And they should be as welcome as any white person. 

My eyes try to close, to drift off. 

But my anxiety and stress won’t let them. 

Won’t let me. 

And as I start to enter a trance, 

to dream my nightmare of what happened, 

I know one thing. 

We need to do something about this.

 
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