Denise Wooten, a community activist and resident of Borchert Field, writes about the fears shared by mothers of black youth and the grief of those whose sons and daughters have been killed by police and others.
Believe that the Book of Lamentations
Was written just for them
The wailing and gnashing of teeth begins
For a life gone far too soon
Still sitting in the dark
She waits and listens for a key turning in the lock
The reassuring sound of a child
That will never return
Empty wombs evolved into overcrowded tombs
Arms that once cradled and rocked promises
Now only embrace desolate thoughts
Of what might have been
If only…
He had turned left instead of right
Been raised on another block
She had come home a little earlier
Didn’t drive but hailed a taxi
Too many mothers
Forced to choose a nice suit or a dress
Not for the prom but for the grave
We’ve seen it in their eyes
Too many mothers
Raise babies they did not birth
Picking up the mantle
Left behind by the ones they did
Too many mothers
Struggle with unanswered bewilderment
She knows no amount of protesting
Can comfort her shattered heart
Too many mothers
Avoid the telephone
In case the voice on the other end
Is the one she never saw coming
It is so sad that in the inner city community too many young men die but the community needs to understand that they die primarily At the hands of other young men not wearing uniforms. There is no excuse to take another’s life but it’s important for the community to know that if black lives matter they must start riots every time a black man shoots another black man the cops most of them good man trying to stop the carnage and as a result are present in the community and fearful that the person they’re talking to or seeking has it gun and will shoot them. No one wins in this game we have to stop condemning one another for our own pain