matters of the heart

Police Brutality – America’s Reality

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A poem dedicated to a real issue in America…Police Brutality

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The inhuman behavior that confesses hate so fluently has a root

Check the soil because it determines the identity of your truth

The soil of a human is red

It has four chambers not flower beds

Receiving and releasing generational poison

Misled

Pure love has the ability to filter through taught and learned hate

Love is too great to lose

When shown, it prevails everything

Birth into inequity I understand that sin is in me

But what I do to prevent and dispel evil is a moral choice

Mom and dad taught me to choose mankind over a kind

I can remember pigmentation, not skill, was the reason my daddy couldn’t

try out for Basketball in high school but he still chose love…

I can’t imagine

And I remember, being a young girl on vacation to Dollywood in the

mountains and while waiting to be seated to eat at a restaurant, we were

denied service and my dad chose love…

We walked out and ate somewhere else

Too young to understand but my examples practiced what they preached

As I watched, looked, listened and my heart followed

A well, guarded heart that didn’t allow the issues of life to flow without

permission

Because my root has always been love

Even when love was hard to find between hurt, tears and reality

That had nothing to do with me

Matters of the heart are disproportionally killing America

Bleeding internally from dis-ease

That seems to be connected to your sight

I don’t believe you are colorblind

Because that would mean that everyone is receiving the same treatment

You are only as blind as you want to be

Ignorance has become brutal

Before turning deadly

What is it? Tell me…what is it that you revert to in your heart that has

taken root?

Pulled on but not able to uproot?

It has grown and continues to deny any food of truth

You were not born that way

Hearts become impure

Expose and remove contamination

Pump God in

That’s love

When will you stop abusing authority?

What will it take for you to stop before it hits home

Because with hearts that choose to not know God

Revenge gets ugly

What if you were holding the power to break this cycle?

What if your decision to kill perception and bury experiences that

influenced police brutality ceased because you chose to speak?

Nothing will change until you change

And when you change

We all will change..

 

xoxo Chiccy Baritone

 

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