Tears For Trayvon

For Trayvon 

Who mourns the boy you couldn’t see. The child slightly younger than you and me. Who mourns the boy that was scared and crippled by fear. The kid who screamed, but no one could hear. Who mourns the boy who spent his last moments in pain. The young one whose tears were lost in the rain. Who mourns he...That boy who looks just like me.

He went to the store. On the typical night he went to purchase the routine snack and drink. Never thinking twice....not thinking this trip to be his final destination. Ice tea and skittles in hand. Walking home on the phone talking to his girl, yet never imagining tonight he would leave this world.  And yet out of the darkness he felt eyes.  Eyes gazing into his soul. Eyes piercing into his heart. He was engulfed in fear and remained on the phone. As his assailant came closer he was stopped by a question. Heart now beating he heard,  “What are you doing here?” And out of the darkness he saw, what that question held. A weapon. On the phone she told him to run. And all that’s known was that he cried....he screamed for help. Only for his screams to be silenced. Silenced with pain. Piercing his soul with a chill deeper than no other and leaving his hoodie stained. He sank into the hands of god....he fell slain. And his name...was Trayvon Martin.

You can’t replace a life. We cannot go back in time. And there were other lives before his.... Manuel Loggins, Kenneth Chamberlain Sr, Amadou Diallo, James Anderson, Sean Bell, Oscar Grant, amongst many others. And what do you tell their families? How do you wipe his mother’s tears when justice has yet to be served.  17 years old. Do you remember 17? The nights you walked home alone? Your trips to the store? Imagine if you were Trayvon....

And we combat injustice through action. We march. But I tell you...and I mean each and every one of you that I am tired of marching. Not that my feet have walked as far as Dr. Kings but because I thought I would never have to. I am tired of walking just as my parents were tired in the 1980s. I am tired of marching like my grandparents were tired in the 1960’s. Because they marched a mile so my parents would only have to march half. My parents marched half a mile so we today would only have to march a quarter. And we march today March 27^th 2012, so our children will never have to march again. We shed tears for Trayvon...that we may never have to shed tears again.

Because I too wear a hoodie. And I am not a criminal. We wear hoodies, yet we show no criminal intent. And to Mr. Rivera I say this, At night with a hoodie I look like Trayvon. At night with a hoodie you look like Trayvon. (Point), You look like Trayvon. You. And you. We are all Trayvon Martin.

And all we ask...is for justice.

-Moises Seraphin

If I had a spaceship...

"A Compilation of my Tweets"

If I had a spaceship,

I would be in Paris...Right...Now, if I had a spaceship,

I would go to Mars when Earth got boring, if I had a spaceship,

I would write poetry in the stars, go back in time and heal scars. I would say **** my damn car, if I had a spaceship,
 
I wouldn’t be eating Ramon Noodles...Right...Now. I would dine on Mount Everest and upgrade to Chef Boyardee, if I had a spaceship,

I would never feel pain, and never be without pleasure. Because I would never see rain, subtle tears, the anguish and stains, if I had a spaceship,

I would fly past the sky.....if I had a spaceship,

I would keep myself outside of the silly thoughts inside my brain, be released from my struggles & pains, if I had a spaceship,

I would be in love with the heavens above, and I wouldnt be feeling the pain of your heartbreak, if I had a spaceship,

If I had a spaceship. If I had a spaceship. Never mind because I don’t.

 If only....I had a spaceship.

-M.Seraphin