Racing Home Due To My Race Poem by Tyrone Gayle

Just got off the bus and woah! It's 39° yet I'm not sure if I should put over my hood,
Suddenly, a man with his on stepped pass and I decided it is not good,
Really? I am walking home and I have to formulate a safety guideline and plan?
I just need to open my door to my family's faces like any other young man.

In practice for that moment my fingers keep fidgeting in my pocket on the right key,
I feel this is a dangerous method I indulge my two hands to partake in nightly,
Although I am far from a criminal they say my complexion yells, 'He might be,
So don't you dare take his hands in his pockets likely! '

Madness! It is winter and I am simply trying to stay warm in the cold,
I just don't want to put myself at risk of catching a serious cold,
But I guess that's okay, because some men with power are so cold,
And in an instant the beats of my heart can stop as my body slowly turns cold,

If you haven't walked in my skin you might think I am being paranoid,
But like a meerkat I have to scan for the predators who possess a pair of nines,
Whether it be the so called protectors in blue or my so called brothers in black,
Who does not know how a cop operates and does not know how a bro acts.

Imagine, I can get expose to such insanely mean behavior by my own kind,
So what is stopping a man who takes one look at me then translates a crime,
I believe, one love for all is what we need so we can just have a united time,
Oh wait, I passed my house, it appears I have a lot on my mind.