My conversation with God 7/13/13
I don’t want to talk about the Treyvon Benjamin Martin story
Because it’s been told before because I know how it ends
black boy dead boy no boy wins.
And you,
you were supposed to be watching
keeping him from harm.
His mother prayed and prayed and
you said you would she believed
you could
he was the one in the hood
and you just didn’t.
Maybe you looked away for a second
got distracted,
heard thousands calling your name
so much you couldn’t hear him
couldn’t decipher it from the voices
the noises,
maybe you confused it with a cheer
when the field goal was good,
or a hymn that was really loud
maybe you didn’t like what he had to say
all young and un-educated like.
but really,
how long would it have taken,
how long did it take
for you to call
for him to leave,
join you,
be rewarded
such a short time
in your care.
Was it just too dark that night? Was he just too dark that night?
They say he looked like all the others, “all the other punks that get away”.
— a poem by Cj Coleman
Cj teaches in the Pittsburgh Public Schools, is a Western Pennsylvania Writing Project Fellow (U of Pittsburgh) and a member of Madwomen in the Attic (Carlow University)
Cj emailed me this poem and I found this photograph in my archives to accompany her words.
sad
Nicely done. Kind. Tasteful.
Every parents worst nightmare. Great photo!
I feel I should respond to Cj’s powerful poem . . . but I have no words.
A terrible tragedy, Ruth. CJ’s poem says it all.
I think the photo matches the poem perfectly.
He was high on marijuana that day. He could have walked away before he decided to fight. He could have explained that he was visiting his father.