poem, poetry, Uncategorized


“Fuck the police that’s how I treat ’em.
We buy our way out of jail,
but we can’t buy freedom.” – Kanye West

We cannot buy freedom.

But How do we stop it?

We can build rockets to send men to the moon

and line our pockets with money until they boom

Like the babies from the 80’s,

Or 60’s?

My thoughts are hazy,

But lately

It’s like the more money, the more problems

And the only way to solve them

Is to turn to a system that wants us at the bottom.

No growth,

No chance to fall like autumn

But I like my chances.


Do not take away the things that I have fought for.

The baby steps leading me to hop over mount rush-mores

Or me speaking around people who want me to hush more.

Or me graduating despite a couple low test scores.

Or me standing tall when you want my people dead more.

The list goes on but I’m sure

You understand.

That the color of my skin does not make me less of a man.

Or do you?

I guess the only ‘Young Thugs’ you like are the ones that can rap.

Well I can’t do that


I “count 6 shots”

Every time I think about Mike Brown.

And the town

That I’m from.

Where people like me are thought to be too dumb

To achieve anything of importance.

You act surprised.

Well I’m sorry master,

I didn’t know I couldn’t graduate

Then go get my Masters

Instead of having my name plastered on Twitter

with a hashtag

Screaming “Black lives matter”.

As they hold up a sign saying

All lives matter.

But police

Aren’t leaving you dead in the street

Having your life shattered.


It’s as if melanin has become a weapon,

And it is feared for all of the wrong reasons.

Ones that make Breathing a crime and Gun shots chime

Leaving more black bodies lined in the streets.

I am deranged from thinking of the lanes

We have switched into.

From queens and kings

To the bottom of the totem pole.

No goals.

No monumental carvings of us could suffice.

We are merely wood for them to burn.

Set us on fire

and watch as an empire

is built on top of the bones of the innocent.

Treat us as we are, not as you wish us to be.

And maybe,

Just maybe, things can begin to change.

My penmanship flows so perfectly

With hyperboles

Like Malcolm and Martin.

But not even a spartan could kick us into a hole deeper than this one.

It takes one man,

One speech,

One poem,

To spark the mind that can change our lives.

And You cannot hide.

I know.

You want to push it off for later,

To go finish that paper that was due last week.

For a decent GPA

And that college degree.

But that’s not how it works.

No matter what you do,

The amount of money you have

Will not save you

because one thing stands true,

You cannot buy freedom.

                          By Tevin J. Reese

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