Like this
That I wish
I was less empathic.
As the pain
Sears my soul
Like a red hot poker.
Dragging me
Ever deeper
Into a land of sorrow
And constant tears.
Reliving
My own memories
Of police harassment.
With
The resulting feelings
Of anger and hopelessness
From it.
Knowing
The cops had
No valid reasons
In carding me
Both times.
Especially
The first time.
Stopping me
Just minutes away
From my basement apartment
In Brampton.
For the next 10 minutes
I experienced
A level of verbal abuse
With a hint of physical violence.
Unlike
Anything before
Or since.
Explaining
I looked suspicious
To him .
And that
There have been
A rash of break-ins
Locally.
A B.S. story
As no one was talking
About this
In the neighbourhood.
Yet
I stood there
Quietly
Taking this abuse.
Scared.
More
Was to come.
In reality
Just wanting
To go home
And get some food.
Before collapsing
For the night
In bed.
Sadly
Having a driver license
And taking transit
To and from work.
Because
I couldn't afford
The expenses
Of the maintenance
For a car.
Ticked him
Off.
So
As the news
Of the deliberate killings
By the American police officers
On patrol.
Brought back
These dark memories
Of mine.
Damn them
To whatever Hell
They came from.
Therisa © 2016
Author's note: These are memories that I have kept locked away, for the most part, rarely, talking about them, to anyone. I know, these reactions, by me, are wrong, but the feeling of shame, anger, and frustration, were greater. After this past week, I need to release these memories, in a safe and constructive, thus, ending their corrosive hold, over me.
9 comments:
I hope writing this exorcised some of the pain, Therisa. I think part of police training needs to be sensitivity training, for the various situations they will encounter. Recent events show us all how much farther we need to go to create a more just society. Thank you for sharing this poem. See you in the Pantry tomorrow, kiddo.
I do not really understand how, except that they take boredom out on others... we live in a world where bullies are rewarded and compassion is seen as weakness... no wonder it happens, and those in power tries to exercise it on those that they feel will never complain.
It's a form of control, Bjorn, in that the police say, they need info, about us, minority groups. And yet, in Toronto, they refuse to release this info, to the general public. Never mind, much of that info is wrong.
It does, to a degree, but I can never forget, how that Peel Regional Police officer made me, feel inferior and worthless, in the 10 minutes or so, he verbal attacked me.
Writing can be very therapeutic so I hope it has helped some. I can only imagine how awful these experiences must have been, and now to relive them. Bullies whether they are police or bosses or spouses or whatever seem to relish the control and pain they inflict. We have a long way to go in this world with accepting each other as human beings and treating each other with loving kindness....much love to you Therisa.
Donna@LivingFromHappiness
Powerfully and personally written. No one should have to endure that kind of abuse.
Beautifully poignant.
Valid emotions, I think, in the face of such behaviour and the recent reminders of it. But wise of you to understand it is better for YOU to release them before they corrode you further. (Different circumstances, but I once hated someone for many years for reasons I still think absolutely justified, and only managed to stop when I finally noticed that it was damaging ME.)
Right on. Being marginalized (at best) or penalized (at worst) for who you are (not what you've done) is the complete opposite of entitlement and privilege. Thanks for sharing this.
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