Hurt

//darnell l. jett

      With my hands up, I’ll die in the moment I stand to live for nothing at all.
      ’Cause while the whole world is so shocked and appalled about fake Muslims dying for a fictional cause, they out here cockin’ and shootin’, killin’ Young-Black College Potential at an alarming rate, then pretend to relate as if they could feel my pain.
      See, I must be going insane, ’cause every time we get to where we can properly place the blame, it’s such a shame that they lost a plane.
      Yet, if we were more aware about being aware, other than just what to wear, we would get somewhere, but where would that leave music?
      See, it’s so un-funny how they play us like dummies cause how easy we forget, that when Granny was five, Mike Brown was just another Mike Brown whose fat-ass got found somewhere hanging from a tree in a place where it barely snow.
      You know, for using the short-cut behind his house to a store where he could barely go.
      Look, regardless how we feel, shit been real back before "Emmett Till" could put his lips together and blow. And of course before Dr. King relayed the dream, we sit around and pretend that we could know.
      Yet, to a race of people mentally challenged when it comes to the challenge of challenging the status quo, history is just another mystery on a long list of things we ought to know.

//Darnell L. Jett was born and raised on the West Side of Detroit. By the time he was 11 years old, he had completely fallen in love with the power of words. And yet, even still to this day, he can’t imagine anything more liberating than his thoughts finding their way to a page. Despite the fact that he's currently incarcerated as of August 2015, he still holds on to the hope that his work could benefit or inspire someone, somewhere, to see things just a little more clearly if nothing else.