Dear Mr. Officer: A Plea From The Grave

Dear Mr. Officer, I am you

I am not the color of my skin
Nor the dreads on my head
I am not the sag in my pants
Nor the swag in my steps
I am not the tattoos on my body
The incomprehensible language that I speak
Nor the brashly look in my eyes
I am you

The blood that courses through your veins
The little things that make you laugh
The big things that make you cry
And the water that trickles from your eyes when you do
The icky feeling of when you're sick
I am you 

When you were young and impressionable
Your little brother, nephew, or cousin
Though set in his ways, you loved him still
You laughed together, played together
You were his hero, and he looked up to you
I am you

They say I am tomorrow's leader
And you swore to protect and serve
And bring about change to society
But when you look at me, you see a degenerate
One scorned and society would be better off without
In me you only see trouble
One to be managed, diffused, and eradicated
I am you

You never stop to ask me about my day
Or what I am doing in the streets
You never talk to me about your job
And how important, and difficult it is
You stop me with your gun when I have none
And you're trained to never miss your target
Yet you say you fear for your life when I run
And pow, pow, pow, Boom! I am down
Gone from my family, friends, and society
Robbed of life, and human dignity

Dear Mr. Officer, I am you!