Who will write a love poem to our black boys?
(In Memory of Avonte Oquendo & Myls Dobson)
JP Howard

Where do our black boys go?
Why they end up floating in oceans and rivers?
Body parts find their way to surface,
cigarette burns and baby’s body bruised all over.

Why we let our black boys slip away?
Silence muffles their voices,
at four and fourteen they share a secret.
We bury our black boys again and again.

We break our black boys.
We let our silent black boys
slip away in broad daylight.
We repeat we repeat we repeat their chorus.

Who looks for a black boy running out a school house?
Who hurts our black boys behind closed doors?
Why we stop looking for our beautiful black boys,
until their skull is crushed or floating.

Who will write a love poem to our black boys?
Hold their broken bones against a warm chest,
let them touch something soft and tender
before they float away.

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