Little Boy.

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Tonight, and I was driving on the freeway and saw a billboard with a young black boy in the middle of it, viagra dosage

 The left side of his body dressed in an orange jump suit

While his right side in a polo shirt

On his left side, cure in bold letters read PRISON, with a dollar amount underneath

 On his right side bold letters spelling out SCHOOL, with a smaller dollar amount underneath

 “YOU DO THE MATH”

 It challenged

 Neglecting the fact that they have already put this boy in his own cell

A cell that implies that prison is an inevitable route in his life if not intersected by books

Implies that he only has two options in life to receive an education or have the rest of the world educate him instead

Why did you have to paint the colors of his skin to match your marketing attempts?

You could have sketched the silhouette of any child instead

You do not realize

How you continuously create the boxes these boys find themselves in

Before they even get the chance to say who they want to be

You cannot use their melanin as a tool

They are the makers of their own future but you

With your basketball in one hand and football in the other

Do not give them a chance to figure out if they want to be the first to find a cure for cancer

Dance circles around these stages or create non-profit organizations that spell out hope

They are dreamers before they are ever doubters

Being told that their idea of dreaming would only get them in trouble

That being reckless and bold will only lead to them being behind bars

Who’s to say,

That their hearts desire should be the stereotypes they are consistently suffocated in

Being stuffed into jumpsuits much too big for them

And classrooms that never figure out how they learn in the first place

They are little boys, who sweat and wrestle

Who laugh and hope

Only to have a reality given to them on superficial platters

When, will you stop being afraid of who they can be

When, will they be able to live lives outside of their skin tone?

This is a not just about little black boys

This is about all little boys

Who never had a chance to dream bigger than their boxes

Who are never told, "baby

You could be the next whatever it is you want to be.

You, are more than this world will tell you"

They will scream, yell, point guns of oppression to your head

But baby, be all that you can be

Be greedy when it comes to knowledge, never stop learning

Believe that no mountain is too high for you to climb

no hand is too far for you to shake

no place is too big for you to leave your footprints on every trace of it

They, are just afraid of who you could be

your potential is more than can be placed in a price tag

or in four walls

or in a cell

 Boy,

please don’t let them tell you

who it is you should be

 Be stronger than the boxes they will put you in

and never believe that you belonged there in the first place

 I promise, you’ll see brighter days than your face on a billboard with only two options

Your options are as endless as the directions you dare to dream

Do not feel as if you have to pick up anything they give you

Pick up a pen instead

Write down where you want to go

What you want to see

And who you want to be

 Instead of them telling you,

You tell them

Alright?

You tell them.