When A Black Person Lives 

You ever seen a black person live?

It’s like thunder and lightning decided to jump out of the sky

And jump into society’s staring eyes like firecrackers 

Going off in their heads to say something, to think something, and to think 

they know something 

You ever seen a black a person live through discrimination like it’s nothing?

“I’m used to it!”

In those words are hurt that can’t be reversed 

But listen up first, 

“I’m so tired of how they see me.”

“Dance like, dress like, and wanna be me.”

There is anger when a black person lives,

“Do you belong here, son?”

“Do y’all have to be so loud and so ghetto?”

“Do you really like rap? What’s good about it?”

“Do you think police brutality against black bodies is really legit, when black 

on black violence exists?”

When a black person lives,

The world finally sees what it’s like for us

It’s scary 

It’s struggling 

It’s cautious 

It’s giving them no reason to look at you twice 

It’s closing your eyes in fear at the flash of red and blue lights 

When a black person lives, 

A whole generation of kids live to see another day 

Another sunrise grace the horizon, 

Another walk through the neighborhood

Another mother’s kiss on the forehead 

Another smile 

Another home cooked meal  

Another bright colored sunset

Another inability to forget while trying to get some rest

That everyday isn’t promised for the black person to live

“Move with pride, but not too much, Respectfully keep your chin 

up, but keep your head down and such.” 

When a black person lives, 

You will find a white person ready to argue very close behind 

Unafraid to spit their pity, undermine your mind 

But can’t mind, their own business 

Can’t stop overcompensating their own biases 

We riot for our lives that have never stopped living on the slackline

When a black person lives, 

Look at them 

See what they have overcome in a society that only serves one 

Give them a smile 

You’d make make their day instead of clutching your Coach tightly, or quick glancing away 

See them as people 

They are not just a color, they are humans who live, who breathe 

And piece together so many portions of this damn society 

When a black person lives, 

Listen to the vernacular that rolls off their tongue

Listen to the ground when their foot walks instead of runs 

Remember that they are the quickest to die and the easiest to forget 

The most intimidated, and the most in jeopardy to a threat 

When a black person lives, 

Praise them! 

Their presence is the equivalent of the first spring day

A slow inhale 

Growing in every way 

But, nothing gold, nothing sweet, nothing that has all odds against it, 

Can stay.

About the Author

Daijah Patton is a junior English/Creative Writing major with a minor in Secondary Education here at Arcadia. She writes her poetry as an outlet to what she's feeling, but also to what she's seeing, and loves to share it with others or perform slam poetry. She spends a lot of her other spare time indulging in cooking/baking, reading fiction and poetry, and trying to tell people what music they should listen to.