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For every dream unrealized

every goal unachieved,

all the legacies lost,

I  grieve.


For every celebration thwarted,

every promise broken & family torn,


body left strewn and rotting,

I mourn.


For every heartbroken mother,

father, sister, brother;

For every void that can’t be filled,

For every hope that,

along with you,

was killed,

I weep.


I keep

thoughts of you

stamped in my mind,




brown sketches

like henna,

fading over time,

rebranded with new outlines

of bodies.

Your smiles

framed with my daughter’s laughter.

Your faces

looming over the vision I have of my son.


If I can’t protect them,

how will I prepare them?

We do not raise our children

for execution,

but they are targeted like prey.


have become tombstones

as they

RIP your bodies apart

and leave your lifeless limbs to rot,

while we mirror the actions

or sleep, deeply sleep.

America’s history on repeat

in every way.

So, I stay woke….

“We know this place…”

-Talitha Anyabwelé

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