When Does He Stop Being Someone’s Baby?

​Dear Mama
I know you’re missing me and you hate that I lost my life senselessly at the hands of a cop that put his mark on me. I know that the media made my past catch up with me by displaying my rap sheet and now history will always see me as a savage being. I know now that my blood that painted the streets has been washed away from the crime scene. I know the cops you saw on your TV screen said that they can “justify killing me”. Now my seeds are left with memories of me,  my friends and family wear t-shirts saying rest in peace to me, they even pour out their liquor for me; some laughed and shared a few of their favorite times with me . Mama I didn’t know when I woke up this morning that it would be the last time I walked out the door. Mama I didn’t know that I would be another Black man with a Hash tag to hit the floor. I know you’ll fight for me while they examine my body and put that ice on me.  Mama I’m ok now; they saw the tapes, they know my name now, and I know they will stand up and rally for me…Tell me, when do our black men stop being somebody’s baby? -Valerie Rene’a


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Author: Valerie Rene'a

Author of Naked Tales and Hidden Desires and 52 Sandy Lane

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