Welcome back for the final installment of #BackseatPoetry January 2016 featuring Kiyya K! It’s been a wonderful month so far and we’d like to share one more piece from Kiyya before next month kicks off.
Before we get started with today’s feature, ‘Lost Ones,’ catch up on the first three installments.
Don’t forget to stay connected with Kiyya via Twitter [@Kiyya_K] and through her blog, KiyyaKForever.wordpress.com.
I know little girls that ballerina princess their fairytales
I know young boys who monster truck their ways through GI Joes
I know teenage girls who kiss prince charming every night & 13 year old boys who play Kevin Durant in the front yard
I know fathers dreading first dates & mommies heading out to their first soccer matches
I know stolen dreams and taken away kisses
I know how it felt when Tamir never made it home & Aiyana couldn’t find anymore of her toys
Kevin Davis will always be a long lost uncle & Tony Robinson will never reach dub club
I cried for the last pack of Skittles Trayvon will ever hold
I know my life can be summed up in how many times it takes for the world to blame the dead for their deaths
I remember how it felt when Baltimore called my name
How slow time stood when we could no longer catch our breath in the midnight air
We weren’t allowed to swim, dance, or even church
Our most sacred places turned into ghost stories
Why are they so obsessed with stealing our history
I know young Black girls who played house and drank tea with their pinkies in the air
I know a young Black son right now growing his locs so he can look just like daddy
But i also know the evils of this world & how quick they will be to snatch it
it isn’t fair that we couldn’t save Anthony or protect Kendrick
Our little girls should be able to mourn their mothers in peace without being thrown across the room.
ameriKKKa how dare you
How dare you wisk away our tomorrows in a sea full of white guilt and silence
And if you don’t like our resistance, I wonder how you’d respond to our violence
Kickback these fairytaled dreams in which our children are left out of the picture
who does my daughter look up to
Who is the role model for my son
Tell me, what damage haven’t you done
I sit and listen to the songs Rekia never got to sing, and watch the movies that Kajieme never got to film
Who knows where they could have gone, who they could of been
A poem for the lost memories
We fight for them
Thanks Kiyya for your time! I’m sure we’ll be featuring a lot more from you in the future.
UPDATE: KIYYA K READS “LOST ONES”