I don’t believe in races stereotypes, but they hanged him from the laces of his banged up Nikes. Black boys out looking for a fight. When he gave it he paid the ultimate price. He was a good guy, always nice and polite. Stood up for himself and his friends in life.
I’m standing just by the flats where they killed him. It was knocked down soon after replaced with a council building. It used to be a derelict hut that the kids used to go in. Smash up the windows with stones, record noises on their phones and set them as their ring-tones.
As I walk up to near my house, I see a gang of black boys in the distance. Them coming towards me can pause me. My own subconscious can force me to believe that I foresee the beef, foresee these thieves, foresee the reefs by my coffin as my mum weeps. I can face this. Walk away and I’m racist. Step a few more paces, I know what this place is. Know the way out of all the mazes. Haven’t played man-hunt in ages but know where the cage is.
I can feel them breathing on my tongue. It’s not too late I can turn around and run. But I keep on walking, get closer I can hear them talking. Screeching and laughing. Preaching and barking. Tense up, prepared for them starting.
But they walk past me. I don’t look back and I carry on my journey. Get home early.
Thinking about how I judged them too easy. A black gang and alarm bells rang. That’s bang out of order. I’ve got black mates and ought to know better. Check in on my mum in the kitchen someone’s upset her, she’s on the phone bitching. I look at the cinema listings Chips & Dips on a friends date, Orange Wednesday. Forget what people in the ends say. I did the right thing, brought her back in. Had to so I knew what was happening.
I didn’t believe it, hope that you read this. The epiphany was our kiss and your picture. And she needed to be in the game so you could see that I picked ya. Jokingly ripped ya. Wanted you to fall for me but never wanted to trip ya. Never wanted to trick ya
She’s now offering me everything I wanted back then. But life has happened and things change. She was a chapter but I’ve turned the page. No weakness or shame. Hate or blame. In my head only one face one name. Every night. Every day. I can be hurt by the truth but not killed. Only events that are not real kill me. Don’t waste my time and life keep it real really. Not listening to you were mine nearly. Never meant to be clearly.
But Social net-working is hurting. See the girl flirting with *******. Facebook, Twitter I’m certain. Let it go Mr Harrow. Walk away, narrow escape. Have you got what it takes not to get your heart raped? Be a mate. You got bigger things on the horizon. Look her in the eyes and be wise now. The time has come to say your goodbyes now.
[Every time I look into the mirror I think to myself. This is it. This is your face my friend. Don’t pretend to be another guy. Those wrinkles and the twinkles in your eye. How you mingle and are the single most funniest soul on the go. Are they laughing at you? Or with you? If you were gone would they forget soon or miss you? At your funeral hand the girls a tissue. Wish you were dead. Was the last thing we said to him. We’ll always remember him. Did he live? He lived some kind of life alright, but different I guess. Always realised he was just a guest and never owned anything or any person. Did he get everything off his chest knowing there’s no reversing. No time machine for maybes. Take risks. Tick off the boxes on the things to do before you die list. Embarrassed? Don’t go red if you fail. Are you cringing? Start the engine this is finishing.]
[This is the fucking cunt that I’m talking about, out here in the world. Ask some questions give suggestions. This happened because of that. Or can stereotyping save a life? The broken bones are here from when I was young, that blood on the curb is from my knee. I didn’t go to the hospital I just let it bleed, and made sure the girls could see me. Put on a façade so I could look hard but I was in agony. I’ve got the scar here for you to see. The right leg. Ask me. That spray painted goal on the wall is my art, my name scribbled into a love heart. That’s me in your sheets. That is also my face in your photograph, can’t smile nor laugh on cue. I’m laughing here because I was with you. Who?]
This is me in my best coat, it’s well old and you know. The same jeans because I only have one pair. I don’t like jeans. Surprise surprise another crime scene. Get out of the way for the ambulance but it doesn’t beep me. Creepy old man standing on the edge of the street looks right through me at the kid who does a skid on his feet. Check my watch and I’m running late. Police have cornered of the alley great. Try to slip through without making it bait. Sweet as a nut they haven’t clocked. The policeman hasn’t looked. Should make it. Check my watch again but it’s the same time, must be broken I hate it. Here’s my phone take it? What?
I’ve walked through this alley a million times. Surrounded by the flats of a real big size. Souls inside with a million sighs. Police have put up a ‘help with this murder’ sign. I look down at the body and I realise, that I’m looking deep in to my… own eyes.
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