So, I went to bury my brother today
But he wasn't your brother
And you weren't at the funeral
You say
That may be true, but he might as well have been
Seeing as how all that matters is the color of his skin
The burial has taken place time and time again
Deep within my soul.
I have to bury the anger, the pain, the sadness
Put on a smiling face and go on about my day.
But overall, I'm just tired.
Tired of seeing another dead body
Tired of avoiding videos
And knowing that while I can shut off the news and reality
tv
That this reality transcends my tv
I'm also worried.
It seems we have fallen into a pattern
A body drops
The statuses and hashtags come out
The marches come
But then it all dies down.
Until a day, week, a month later
We start the same thing all over again.
I'm reminded by others of my people's history
And how much we have struggled
But what if I'm tired of struggling?
I don't know what to do.
Does that make it easier for them
When I just bury myself?
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