Lemachi Enweremadu

a life lived black

constant fear
tinted windows
palms vibrating
with tremors

asked to step out
a tacit paralysis

glued to your hands
resides the wheel
glued to your hands
resides your last goodbye

as soon as you let go
the timer begins

15 minutes away
from the smell
of the cup foods market
at east 38th and chicago ave

a God willing 84
becomes 46
76 becomes 25
95 becomes 17

but i am only 17
a black 17
a disvalued 17
deprived of innocence
deprived of worth

you step out
you count the breaths
you have left

water drips to your cheek
but the land remains dry
devoid of rain

please somehow
escapes your caged lips
pressure ensues your neck

but i am only 17
a black 17
pursued with aggression
pursuing without intention

you see the gun
before the badge
the rain before the umbrella
death before
whatever protects death

a run impinges your mind
a run from destiny
a run from fate

you remember
you practiced this scenario
never run in a straight line
the jukes
the fakes
hesitation moves

a hands up stance
feel the wind of canfield drive

you look around
this will be the place
the street

you woke up
with your eyes closed
that morning

but i am only 17
a black 17
a human 17

at least i got to 17

you hear a faint voice
and static
two words

wrong guy

you resume your life

tinted windows
constant fear


Lemachi Enweremadu is a student at Delbarton School in NJ. He writes on his free time because it helps him find peace, as his fingers type away to answer any conflicting affairs or stress from within.

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